Autumn Fires
by Bluestarshine
Summary: Pleasant summer over, and all the summer flowers, the red fire blazes, the grey smoke towers. With Rakes' war over things come to a calm but there's always a calm before the storm. When the ghosts of the past return to haunt you, the darkness howls, and there are more bodies to bury, the autumn breeze can cool you but who will heal you? Forrest and Maggie, set after shoot-out.
1. Looking up from underneath

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.**

* * *

_These hearts were woven of human joys and cares_  
_Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth._  
_The years had given them kindness. _  
_Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth._

_**- Rupert Brooke**  
_

* * *

The cool draft of air that floats through the crack underneath the wooden hospital door is, surprisingly, not an uncomfortable feeling for Forrest, as he lies in bed, heavily bandaged and not entirely asleep but not completely awake either. He hadn't tried opening his eyes, or moving in the bed yet. The pain that he had already felt in most of his body would surely only worsen at any attempts to move.

All that Forrest could do was continue to breathe which, in this moment, was easier said than done. Each breath that passed through his dry lips and into his lungs wasn't painful, but it wasn't particularly pleasant either.

The last thing that he remembers is the shoot-out, at the bridge. He can't remember what happened next, if they got the bullets out, and who made it home from the bridge. He guesses that he'd passed out, from the loss of blood perhaps. This is when Forrest's brotherly instincts set it. His need to always protect his brother's is like breathing – it wasn't always easy, like it wasn't easy for him to breath at the present time, but he'd never give up on them, not until his dying breath, and he didn't intend for that day to come anytime soon.

Forrest opens his eyes, slowly, to find he is in a similar room to the last time he was in hospital, when his throat had been slit. The room is lit up in a pale, almost white, light. He guesses that it's probably late afternoon, venturing on into the night. As he thinks of that night when they'd cut his throat, and that memory, he cannot help but remember his last conversation with Maggie. He wonders if she's still around, but part of him doubts that she stayed because she told him she wouldn't watch him almost die again. And, he had almost died this time. It's probably for the best, Forrest thinks, she deserves better than him.

After his eyes flicker over the few items in the room including an oil lamp on a small wooden table and a chair in the corner, they fall down to his heavily bandaged chest and shoulder. He can see that some of the blood has seeped through the bandages and wonders if they'd removed all the bullets. Forrest doesn't consider for a second that moving from the hospital bed while so badly injured will cause him any pain. All that he can think about, in this moment, are his brothers.

The next thought that enters Forrest's mind is a far more violent one, although he doesn't consider it to be, he considers it as something that must be done: If that son of a bitch, Rakes, aint dead, he will be once Forrest finds him. And he won't make it a quick, or a painless death, he's certain of that.

After taking in a small breath of air, Forrest pulls his body upwards in the bed, and then he lowers his legs over the side of the bed, until they touch the floor, which sends a cold chill through his bare feet, but again it doesn't bother him, it feels rather nice against his aching body.

The turning of the door knob alerts Forrest that he has company, he expects it to be a doctor or one of his brothers, so he doesn't move in a rush. If he wants to get up, or if he wants to see his brothers, he will and he doesn't care much for any doctor who would advise him otherwise.

He looks up, to the doorway, to find that it is not one of his brothers, and it isn't a doctor. It's Maggie, dressed in a pale blue blouse and the same colour blue slacks.

"Just where do you think you're goin'?" She asks him, with a slight frown on her features, as she steps through the open door and closes it behind her.

"Uh….mm. Stretchin'..." Forest mutters, in response.

He watches her with a curiosity, and confusion, as she walks towards the end of his bed. She stops as her hands press against the bed rail, and she doesn't move any further.

"Go on, now." She tells him. "Get back in bed."

Forest hesitates as a low, grunting noise passes his lips. His eyes falter from Maggie, to the closed door behind her, and then back to her.

"Your brothers are good, Forrest. Howard didn't even get a scratch, and Jack's been good for days." She tells him, as her eyes cast over the bandages on his chest.

Seeing Forrest hurt, again, and almost dead pains Maggie. She cares about him, a lot – she loves him. And she doesn't want to lose him, but she almost has twice. Seeing him in this state is painful.

"…Days?" Forrest asks, with a slight frown on his face, as he watches Maggie drop her hands from the bed rail.

She steps towards him, leans over him and pulls back the blankets of the bed, indicating that he should get back into bed. Forrest obliges, and slowly lifts his legs back up into bed, and lowers himself back into the position that he'd rested in moments ago. She pulls the blanket up over his legs, once he's comfortably back in bed, and leaves it resting on his lower chest.

"You've been out for four days. Your brother's been comin' around here, every day you been out." She tells him, as she takes a few steps away from the bed.

What she doesn't tell Forrest is that she's been here every day, and every night, for the past four nights. She'd refused to leave his side for any reason. She'd slipped out of the room to check on Jack and Howard, and make sure they were eating properly. And apart from that, and going back to the station to change into fresh clothes, she stayed with him for most of the time that he had been unconscious.

"Mmm…Rakes?" Forrest questions.

"Dead." Maggie answers. "Sheriff is calling it an accident and leavin' it at that."

Forrest makes a small, incoherent grunting sound in response.

"Doctor's said you're gonna be fine." She adds.

Forrest gives no answer to that, instead he says, "Uh…I thought you'd…be gone, by now."

He watches Maggie for some, or any kind, of response, emotion, or reaction to his words. But she gives none. She stares back at him, as he looks at her most times, with unreadable eyes.

"I thought so, too." She answers, honestly.

Now, he sees, a tiny part of what she is feeling, a little bit of her emotions slipping through the carefully constructed walls she'd tried to put up, to keep him out. Because despite the fact that he was, at most times, unreadable to others, he could always read her.

"Maggie…Come here." He tells her.

To Maggie, it's like reliving a memory. She's been here before, watching over an injured Forrest. And she couldn't do it a third time. No, she's almost certain a third time would break her.

She moves, slowly, towards his bed and sits down, softly, on to the edge of the bed.

"Look…what they did to you." She whispers, as her right hand falls, gently, to the bandages on his chest.

Her hand moves with his chest, as he breathes in and out. She finally lifts it away, and places it into her lap.

"Uh…" He mutters. "I'm alright…"

She speaks with a soft voice as she tells him, "I'm not leavin', Forrest. I'm gonna take care of you."

"Why is that?" He asks, watching her with a deep intensity as he speaks.

"You took care of me, when I needed it…" She answers, quickly.

Maggie stands from his bed, and pulls the blanket up over him, so that he won't catch a cold.

"Now, you get some sleep." She whispers, as she leans down and presses her lips, gently, against his forehead.

As she moves, to turn away, Forrest catches her hand. She stops, and turns to face him, with the tiniest frown on her features.

"Come on." He tells her. "You ain't sleepin' on no chair…." Forrest adds, with a low voice.

"I'm just stayin' 'till you fall asleep." Maggie answers, her hand lingers on his despite her refusal to join him. "I've gotta go back, close up the station." She adds, after watching the frown fall on Forrest's face.

"Mmm…Howard can take care of that." Forrest tells her.

Maggie's hesitation to his words gives Forrest his answer, before the question passes his lips. Howard is back on the moonshine, downing it as easily and quickly as breathing, and he can't do much good when he's on it.

Forrest pulls his hand away from Maggie's, and places it down on his chest, where it had rested seconds earlier. Forrest says, with a low voice, "I'm alright. Go back, close up the station now."

The words or lack of, from their previous conversation, before he'd left her to go find Jack repeat in his head. He wants her to go, and close the station up, before it's too late.

Maggie nods, as she says, "Try and sleep, I'll be back later."

Forrest replies with a low grunt, and watches silently as Maggie steps towards, and out of, the door. She casts one last look over him, before shutting the door completely.

Maggie returns to the station to find Howard, down the far end on a seat, sipping on a jar of moonshine, and a few stragglers finishing up their meals and drinks, she moves behind the counter and walks towards the men.

"Come on, now." She tells them. "We're closing for the night."

They look like they might object, and ask for another meal, or another drink, but seeing that Howard is a few feet away, and they know he has an even worse temper when he's drunk, they pay Maggie the correct money, and leave.

"How's Jack?" Maggie asks Howard, as she continues to clean up behind the bar.

"Sleepin'…" Howard answers, with a slight shrug, as he finishes what was left in his jar of moonshine.

He stands, slowly, from his seat as he moves to get another jar. But, Maggie is already by his side. She helps him to stand upright as he is a little shaky on his legs.

"I think you've had enough, Howard. Why don't you go upstairs, get some sleep?" She suggests.

Howard hesitates; he stays silent as he looks down at Maggie. He looks tired, like he hasn't slept for days. He probably hasn't, he's probably spent the entire time sleeping.

"Go on, now." Maggie tells Howard, a little more forcefully, as she begins to usher him upstairs. "I'm gonna close up, then I'm gonna check on Jack, alright? You go and sleep, Howard." She tells him, as they reach the stairs.

"Alright…" Howard mumbles. "'Night…" He calls out, when he's almost half way up the stairs.

"Good night," Maggie replies.

She returns back to the kitchen, where she cleans up and tidies what little has to be cleaned.

As she pushes in one of the stray chairs, back into its place, the sound of footsteps coming up the verandah causes Maggie to jump. She spins around to find a man, whose face she cannot see through the darkness of the verandah. She takes a cautious step backwards, away from him. She's thankful that she hadn't turned the lights out, inside, yet, because she can still see the carving knife sitting on the sink.

"I'm sorry, we're closed." She says, with a voice that was intended to be confident but the sudden fear she feels slips through the cracks, and rings through her voice.

"I'm not lookin' for anything to eat or drink." He answers, as he moves out of the moonlight and takes a step inside the doorway.

As the light falls down on to his features, Maggie recognizes the man immediately. His brown hair is still slicked back in the way that she remembers. He moves towards her, dressed in an expensive and unattractive blue suit.

Maggie watches him cautiously, and with a slight frown, as she says, "Oliver? What-"

"Surprised to see me, Maggie?" He questions, with a smalls mile on his face.

"Oh come on…." He continues, as she remains silent. "Not even a smile, for an old friend?"

"You should be leavin', now." She tells him, with a voice that is a little more confident, as she begins walking towards the bar, towards the knife.

But, Oliver moves, faster, so that he's standing in front of her, blocking her path.

"I travelled….all this way for _you_, Maggie. And not even a smile? It was hard for me to find you…I heard in town, you're staying with some Bondurant brothers, whoever the hell they are." He speaks slowly.

She tries to move past him, but his right arm grabs her left arm, tightly. His left hand grabs her, harshly, by the chin and forces her face upwards, to look up at his.

"If they…" Maggie begins, but Oliver speaks over her.

"If they what? Find me here? It seems to me…like you're all alone. I remember a time….you never could stop smiling, when I was around…" He whispers, as he keeps his brown eyes locked on her.

His grip gets tighter, around her wrist and her jaw, as he continues speaking in a lower, but darker, voice, "You know what you gotta do, Maggie."

"Do we gotta problem?" Howard, who had heard some commotion from his room, asks as he walks out, towards Maggie.

Oliver drops his hands, immediately, at the sight of this tall, almost frightening, man.

"No-" Oliver begins.

"I wasn't askin' you." Howard cuts over Oliver, as he steps towards him.

"I wasn't answering your question. I was telling you that what is between me, and her, is not your concern, sir." Oliver answers.

Howard says, with a threatening voice and a mad glint in his eyes, "No, it is. You don't touch a woman like that, in this house, or anywhere. Never, OK?"

Oliver nods, slowly, as he takes in Howard's words. And then he says, with the hint of a smile, "As I previously said, sir, this is not your concern."

"You think 'cause you call me sir it makes you more of a gentleman?" Howard asks, with a small, maddening smirk on his face.

"Howard…" Maggie begins, softly.

He feels her fingers gently reach up to his upper arm, just above his elbow. She knows how badly this could end; she doesn't care at all for Oliver, she cares for Howard and she knows he wouldn't let Oliver get a punch in, but Howard needs his rest.

But, Howard is mad, not just at this piece of shit who should never lay a hand on a woman ever, he's mad at himself for the state that his two brothers are in - he didn't get hurt at all. Not even the tiniest scratch.

Howard shakes his head, he says, "No, Maggie. I need to teach this 'gentleman' some manners…."

Oliver finds this amusing, and replies, "Perhaps, Maggie, I need to teach your friend here, some correct grammar?"

"OK, you motherfucker." Howard says, nearly growling.

He grabs Oliver, tightly, by the collar of his suit and lifts him from the ground, he takes a few, long, steps until he's out on the verandah. He drops Oliver, harshly, down on to the dirt and kicks him, first in the stomach and then in the mouth.

"You gonna hurt a woman?" Howard asks, as he drags Oliver up off of the ground and holds him, tightly, by the neck. "You'd hurt a woman…you piece of shit. Don't you ever come back here!" He tells him, as he drops his body back down into the dirt.

Oliver looks like he might speak, or do something, as he pulls himself up out of the dirt. With his bruised ego, Oliver dusts of his suit as he mutters a few curses to himself. He turns, reluctantly, away from the house, and towards his car which will take him back to town.

"You want me to lock up?" Howard asks Maggie, as he joins her inside and waits by the door.

She hesitates before answering, she told Forrest she'd stop by, later, tonight. But seeing Oliver again has bought up some feelings she'd rather keep down, and she finds that all she wants to do is climb into her bed and sleep. He's probably sleeping anyway, so she'll just stop by around lunch time and see him then.

"I'm finished here. We should head upstairs, get some sleep." She replies, quickly, as she finishes tidying a few stray objects on the bench.

After he locks up the station, Howard turns off the lights and finds that Maggie is already upstairs. He stumbles, a little, up the stairs and finds himself out side of her door.

"Maggie…" He calls out, into the darkness.

"Yes, Howard?" She asks, as she appears in the moonlight that seeps through her opened door.

"You…" He begins, but stops. "Get some sleep…Night."

"Goodnight, Howard." She says, with a small, kind smile, as she closes her bedroom door completely.

She finds herself standing, silently, in the moonlight that shines through the window of her bedroom, for a moment. After taking in a deep, long breath, that calms her, Maggie begins to get ready for sleep. Her mama always told her, "Things are always better in the morning."

The first time Maggie had heard those words, she'd paused, and asked her Mama why things were better in the morning. Her mother would answer, softly, "Because, in the morning…you've made it through the night, through the darkness, you're in the light now. And things are always better in the light."

Maggie thinks of her mother's words and how this could be one of those moments. In the morning, she'll see Howard and Jack, who always manage to put a smile on her face. She'll take care of them, and then, she'll go and see Forrest, and things will be better.

**A/N: After watching the movie Lawless, which I thought was amazing, I couldn't stop thinking about it, and so those thoughts led to me writing this fic, which I'm still pretty nervous about posting because I want to get the characters right. And I'm not sure if people are going to like it.**

** So, I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading.**


	2. Fractured moonlight on the sea

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.**

* * *

As Howard steps downstairs, into the kitchen, the smell of bacon floating through the air makes his stomach rumble. He hasn't had a real meal for a couple of days. Maggie's eyes flicker over him, and she's secretly pleased to see he's wearing clean clothes; a fresh pair of brown slacks, a rolled up checkered brown and white shirt, with a grey shirt underneath.

Maggie greets him, dressed in a light purple blouse and a brown skirt, from behind the bench. "Mornin'," She says, as her red lips form a kind, red smile. She walks towards him, cigarette in one hand and coffee pot in the other.

"Mornin'…" Howard mutters, in response, as he pulls the plate towards him.

Both of their heads turn, towards the staircase, at the sound of footsteps. Jack appears, in a few seconds, in a simple brown shirt and brown slacks. "I smelt bacon." He comments, with a smile on his face, as he walks, slower than he usually does, towards the stool next to Howard.

Maggie almost gasps at the sight of him. "I was bringin' it to you in bed. Go on, now. Get back up there!" She says, as she puts the coffee pot down abruptly and begins walking towards Jack.

Jack shakes his head, as he sits down on the stool next to Howard. "I'm goin' crazy up there, Maggie," He says. "All I do is lie there, and do nothin'."

"Like always..." Howard mutters, teasingly.

Both Howard and Jack laugh, before Jack says, "Shut up, Howard."

Maggie contemplates Jack's words for a moment, before she says, with the smallest smile, "You wanna see Bertha, don't you?"

Jack seems to almost blush at Maggie's words, but they are the truth. He's seen her a few times, but she hadn't stayed long because she'd wanted him to get his rest so that he could get better.

"Why don't…you two go and see your brother? He's awake now. On your way back you can see Bertha?" Maggie suggests, as she piles the bacon on to Jack's place, and places it down in front of him.

"But," Maggie begins, as she pours some coffee into a mug for Jack, and takes a step towards them. "Don't you walk too much, Jack."

"Yes, Maggie." Jack nods, with an enthusiastic smile.

He's missed Forrest, and Bertha, like crazy. And now that he knows Forrest is awake, he wants to eat as fast as he can so he can see his brother. He wants to talk to Forrest about Rakes, and how he and Howard finished him.

The boys finish breakfast, quickly, and head into town to see Forrest at the hospital. It doesn't take them long at all to reach the hospital, and when they do they find Forrest, with his eyes closed, presumably sleeping. But he isn't sleeping; he's just resting for a minute. His eyes open at the sound of footsteps, immediately he knows they are his brother's footsteps. They're too loud to be Maggie's, and they don't sound like her shoes do.

"Hey Forrest, how you doin''?" Jack asks, with a grin already on his face.

His eyes flicker over Forrest, quickly. His chest, lower stomach and shoulder, are heavily bandaged, and the blood has seeped through in places. He doesn't look too bad. The cut on his neck seems to be healing, all thought it'll be a long time before it completely heals and the scar goes away. It's a miracle, the doctors said; he should've died from that many bullets, and that much blood loss. Only Forrest could survive that, Jack thinks.

Jack seems to walk at a slower pace, but as the wound heals that's expected. He'll be able to move quicker in a few weeks. He's already feeling better; the pain isn't so bad anymore.

Howard removes his hat from his head, and holds it in his left hand as he closes the door. He doesn't look directly at Forrest, but rather looks around the room.

"I'm alright." He mumbles, as he pulls himself upwards in the bed. "How's…that…" Forrest asks, as he gestures to the area that Jack had been shot in.

Jack nods, as he says, "Good. Healin' good, doctors say."

"They say when you be outta here?" Howard asks, finally speaking, as he looks down at Forrest.

"Week an' a bit…" Forrest answers. "Maggie takin' care of you?" He asks, as he remembers that his brother's aren't the best cooks. They never cook, or make, anything but moonshine.

Forrest notices a slight change in Howard's facial expression as he asks those words. He thinks nothing of it, and looks over to Jack.

"Yeah…she's real good to us. Makin' us meals, checkin' in on us." He answers, with a smile. "We got him, Forrest, we got Rakes." Jack adds, with a bigger, proud smile.

"Mmm….Maggie said." Forrest replies.

Jack nods, enthusiastically, he talks fast as he says, "Yeah…I got him, real good, Forrest. You should have seen it. He was runnin' away, and I shot him…then Howard, he pulled out his knife an' he gutted him…."

"Mmm…" Forrest grunts.

He won't say it, or show it, but he's proud of his brothers, especially Jack. He didn't think Jack had what was needed to finish Rakes, but he did. Forrest is just a little disappointed he didn't get to take care of that son of a bitch himself – he would have made it real slow, and painful.

"Doctor's said you should've died-" Jack begins.

"Don't you gotta go see that preacher's daughter?" Howard cuts in.

Howard seems, to Forrest, a little uncomfortable, or something like that. Forrest had been watching him, for some of the time, but he'd been mostly avoiding his gaze and had looked out of the window

"Bertha," Jack corrects Howard.

"Bertha…Betty…" Howard mumbles, to himself. "We should…get goin'. Forrest will be back in a couple days…."

Forrest says, with a low voice, "Mmm…Go on, now, Jack."

With one last smile at Forrest, Jack exits the room. He can't wait to see Bertha; he misses her so much despite the fact that it's only been two days. He thinks, maybe, now that Rakes is gone things might calm down, and he might get to see her more often.

"You wait…Howard…" Forrest says, as his brother reaches the door.

As Howard turns around, Forrest asks, "You….alright?"

Howard nods, as he drops his eyes he says, "Get some sleep-"

Forrest cuts over Howard, as he says, louder, "I asked you a question, you didn't answer me."

Howard's silence gives Forrest his answer. He sees a flash of something in his brother's eyes that he recognizes. He knows his brother too well, and he can see that Howard isn't alright.

"You did good, Howard. You got that son of a bitch…." Forrest says, with a low voice, as he keeps his eyes on his brother.

Two times, now, Forrest has almost died because of Howard, and he feels like he should've done something because Forrest is his brother, his younger brother, and he only wants to protect his brothers. Howard lifts his eyes to meet his brothers, still playing with that hat in his hands; he nods at Forrest before leaving the room.

Forrest spends the rest of the day resting, because all the bullets that he'd received, and the loss of so much blood, have taken its toll on him, physically, but he'll get his strength back soon enough, he always does. He didn't plan on sleeping; he planned to wait around for Maggie to come by. But, with no sign of her by the late afternoon, his eyes had closed on him, and he'd fallen asleep within minutes. He slept for hours, longer than he had in a while. It was good, though, he needed a real rest. The last time he remembers sleeping, well, is when he spent the night with Maggie.

His eyes open, instantly, at the sound of footsteps in his room.

He finds Maggie, halfway through the doorway, with a suitcase in her right hand. She's dressed in a light purple blouse and a long brown skirt.

"Thought you'd be closin' up….?" Forrest comments, with a slight frown.

"Sorry…I didn't mean to wake you." She says, softly, as she places the suitcase on the empty chair in the corner of the room.

"You goin' somewhere?" Forrest asks, not waiting for her answer to his first question and ignoring her apology.

"Some clean clothes…Howard said he'd take care of the station." She replies.

"Mmm…." Forrest grunts, in response. "Off the drink?" He asks.

Maggie nods, "For tonight." She answers, as she takes a step towards Forrest's bedside.

"Closin' up was busy last night…" Forrest says, not asking, as he watches Maggie's eyes move over the room.

He'd waited a few hours, for her to come back, but then he'd guessed she probably fell asleep.

"I guessed you'd be sleepin'…" Maggie answers, casually, as she keeps up her calm, unreadable composure.

She takes a few steps, which echo through the silent room, towards Forrest's bedside table. Sitting on it rests a clear jug, filled with water, and beside that stands an empty glass. Forrest's eyes move with her, and he watches her, silently, as she says, "You must be thirsty."

She picks the jug up, by its curved handle, with her right hand. She puts her fingers around the glass, and places it underneath the spout of the jug, so that the water may easily flow into the glass.

The left sleeve, of her blouse, rides up a little, revealing the beginnings of what is a very dark bruise on her pale skin. This catches Forrest attention, instantly, and his mind, cruelly, brings him back to their earlier conversation, before the shoot-out. But, she didn't have the bruises then, he realizes.

"What happened to your arm?" He asks, as his eyes stay on her left wrist.

He finds that he can't lift his eyes from the bruise – it means that someone has hurt her, and that she's felt pain. And Forrest never wants Maggie to feel pain ever again. He just wants to keep her safe and protect her for as long as he can.

Maggie hesitates, her eyes fall down to the bruise on her left arm, and she stares at it like she hasn't seen it on her skin before. But she has. She woke to it, in the morning. And then she'd cried, because it had reminded her of so many past, painful memories that she'd tried to forget.

She clears her throat, twice, before she answers, "Uh…Nothin'…Hit it on a table, last night, when I was closin' up."

"Is that so?" Forrest asks her.

He keeps his eyes on her, as he speaks. She nods, slowly, in response. He knows her well, so he can tell, easily, that there is more than what she's letting on, and she didn't hit her arm on one of the tables. She'd hesitated, for too long, and she'd stared at the bruise for too long for it to be as meaningless as hitting it on a table.

She takes one step towards him, and sits on the bed, beside Forrest. She lifts the glass, with her right hand, and moves to press it to his lips, but his right hand flies up, towards her left wrist. He pulls back the sleeve, further, to see the extent of the bruise. It's twice the size he thought it'd be, he can see, clearly, that someone has done this to her.

"Who did this?" He asks, ignoring the glass in her hand and the look in her eyes.

Her eyes flicker down to his fingers, which gently rest on her wrist. "I told you, I hit it one of the tables." She answers, softly.

This isn't the answer that Forrest wanted, and he doesn't believe it for a second. He doesn't understand why she won't tell him who did this. The thought of anyone harming Maggie makes Forrest so, incredibly, angry. He clenches his jaw, tightly, together, and the muscle in it twitches twice. Whoever did this to Maggie, whoever hurt her and caused her pain, needs to learn that they should never lay a hand on a woman.

"Who did this to you?" Forrest asks, with a lower voice.

"I told you." She repeats, because those are the only words she can find right now.

Maggie doesn't know why what happens next happens. The pain that she still feels, from what those men did to her, is still fresh in her mind, and always be. She won't think about it – she can't let herself think about it, ever.

What Maggie doesn't understand is why Forrest is angry, about a small bruise on her wrist that will fade, and yet he didn't show any emotion when he'd realized what had happened that night. He didn't stay, to comfort her – although, she knows that Forrest isn't a man of many words, and he surely isn't a comforting man. But she'd expected something, anything, instead of a quick glance and an even quicker exit from the room. She'd cried for a long time, after Forrest left the house that day. She'll never tell him that, but she cried until she was sure there wasn't a tear left in her body. She'd cried because she was scared of losing Forrest.

She pulls her wrist free of Forrest's gentle grip, places the untouched glass of water on the bedside table and stands from the bed as quickly as she can.

"Maggie…." Forrest says, watching her as she moves towards the door. "I asked you a question, Maggie, look at me."

She stops as she reaches the door; her hand lingers on the door handle as her eyes close, slowly. She breathes in, sharply, as Forrest speaks again, "Maggie…."

He's just saying her name, but he says it so softly, and with a hidden concern that shows Maggie how much he does care for her. Forrest is a complex, unreadable man of little words. Sometimes, he doesn't have to say any words for Maggie to understand what he means. Now is not one of those times.

She keeps her back to Forrest, as he says, "Talk to me."

"Like…how you talked to me?" She asks, as she turns, slowly, to face him.

A few tears have already fallen down on her cheeks; she wipes them away, quickly, but Forrest still notices. He notices everything about her, like the way she seems to light up when he's around.

Forrest tilts his head, slightly, sideways, as a small breath passes through his lips. He knows what she's talking about. He'll never forget what he learned, what happened to her. It's going to haunt him to his grave, and even then it may never leave him. She's upset with him, because he didn't say anything to her. Truthfully, Forrest didn't say anything because he couldn't. He couldn't find any words that could, in any way, tell her how sorry he was for what those men did to her. He couldn't find the words to tell her he'd never let anyone hurt her again, or how guilty he felt because he hadn't protected her when he'd silently sworn to.

He couldn't tell her that there was nothing he could say that would ease his guilt. He wouldn't tell her what he did to those bastards, how he castrated and killed them, and how if he had learned before he went there, what they did to her, he would have made their deaths much more painful.

And now, he couldn't tell her that he was so angry about the bruise because he'd failed her again. He only wanted to protect her, keep her safe and protect her. He's never felt this way about anyone, ever, and he's certain he'll never feel this way about anyone again.

"Uh….Maggie…" He says, as he lifts himself up, in the bed, so that he's sitting up.

She waits, silently, for an explanation or something, anything, but instead Forrest says, "Go on, back to the station. It's gettin' late."

A few more tears roll down her pale cheeks, and her voice is barely above a whisper as she opens the door and says, "Good night, Forrest."

The sky is dark, filled with a few stray stars, as Maggie walks towards her car which is parked, as close as is possible to the hospital. She finds herself panicking, and jumping, at the slightest creaks in the floorboards at home, or a loud gust of wind. She takes in a deep breath of cool air, which soothes her throat, as she shuts the door of her car. She's been jumpy, a little on edge, since that night.

After only a minute, if that, of driving, Maggie notices a pair of lights in her rear-view mirror – her first assumption is that a car is following her. She convinces herself that the car is going to turn off, onto another road, but it doesn't. It follows Maggie on her way to the station. She checks the rear-view mirror, repeatedly, as she accelerates the car. If she can just get to the station first, and find Howard or Jack, she'll be okay. The panic truly sets in as she moves closer to the station, and the car continues to follow her. The car moves at a speed slower than Maggie's car, in attempt to stay back, at a pace which might make it unnoticeable.

She pulls up, in her usual spot, and moves as quickly as she can out of the car, slamming the door behind her. She looks back once, to see the car is only a few seconds away from stopping at the house. She almost runs up the stairs, but as her hands clutch the handle she finds the door locked, she runs moves to the other door but it is also locked. And then, she sees the car pulling to a stop.

"Howard?!" Maggie calls out, with a shaky voice that she doesn't recognize.

She gives up on the doors, and moves, quickly, down the stairs. She's going to find somewhere, out the back, to hide. But, as the car door slams and Oliver speaks, she knows she won't be able to get away quick enough at this pace.

"What are you doing, back there, Maggie?" He asks her, with a smile on his face, as he walks under the moonlight, towards her.

Her heart is beating so fast, she thinks there's a possibility it could stop from working so hard.

"Howard!" She yells out, much louder now.

Her voice is more desperate this time, and there is more fear in her voice as she screams out his name.

If Howard is at the station, and if he's awake, he'll hear that. If he's not, or if he's passed out, Jack should hear her. One of them has to, she thinks. She takes a cautionary step back, away from Oliver, her eyes search for any weapon she could use. She remembers there is a shovel, further on down the back, near the shed.

"I want my money, Maggie." He warns her, as he steps towards her.

She sees, in his right hand, a small, black handgun that she's afraid he might use. She doesn't have anything that belongs to him, and she doesn't have his money. She came to town with nothing but her suitcase, and some money she'd saved up from dancing. She didn't take anything from him.

Maggie can almost taste the liquor, which Oliver's breath reeks of, as he moves much closer towards her.

"You're not afraid of me, are you Maggie?" Oliver asks, with a small, but fake, frown.

He can see her chest, heaving in and out slightly, and her hands are trembling. She's trying to hide her emotions from him, she doesn't want to let on that she's scared, but she hasn't been able to keep herself together, like she used to, lately.

Now, she lost complete control of her emotions. She's frightened,of Oliver. He's a horrible man, and a an incredibly mean drunk. He's hunted her, since she left. And now he's found her, and again, she finds herself alone, with no one here to save her from him.

**A/N: Thank you so much to anyone who has read my story, it really means a lot. Also thank you very much to the readers who also reviewed, it was great to hear what you think. :)**

**Also, a big thank you to those of you who have favourited or followed my story, it really means so much!**

**Dear Guest reviewer, who posted on chapter 1 first: Thanks so much, I'm real****ly happy to hear you think it's written well. I'll continue to do this as long as people are reading. Thank you!**

**Dear Guest reviewer, who posted on chapter 1: Thanks for reading! I'm happy to hear you love it. Thanks!**

**Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy :) Xx**


	3. Reflections still look the same to me

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.**

* * *

"Howard!" Maggie calls out to Howard, once more, with a voice that is much quieter than she'd intended it to be.

"Maggie...?" Howard calls back. He appears, from the shadows around the side of the house, with a rifle in his hands.

"What'd I tell you, you son of a bitch?!" He yells, as he catches sight of Oliver, a few feet away from a pale, still Maggie.

Howard has been drinking, a lot; Maggie can smell it on his breath from where he is standing. He looks furious, like he might kill Oliver. But he won't kill him; he'll just frighten him off, for good this time.

Howard moves so that he's standing closer to Maggie, by her side, and with his left hand, he gently moves her so she's standing behind him. He turns to face her, for a brief second, as he asks her, "…You OK?"

She nods, because she's afraid of how weak she will sound if she speaks. She doesn't want to show that side of herself to Howard, or to anyone. She can't show that side. Despite her attempts to keep a calm, fearless composure, Howard doesn't believe that she's ok, not for a second. The look in her eyes gives her true feelings of fear away.

"YOU gonna hurt a woman, are YOU? You SICK motherfucker!" Howard yells, angrily, as he hits Oliver in the nose with the end of his rifle.

Oliver falls to the ground, clutching at his nose; he spits and mutters a curse before shouting, "What'd you tell these hicks, Maggie?"

Howard lifts back his left leg, and kicks Oliver, strongly, in the right side of his chest. However, Oliver doesn't seem to feel it, as he continues, "You tell them that you're a thief, and a killer? Did you tell them that, or did you just conveniently forget that part?"

Howard hits Oliver again, harder, with the back of rifle. He hits him just below his right eye. Then, Howard lowers the rifle, to his neck, and keeps it there, as his finger rests on the trigger. "You come here again, you motherfucker, an' I'll blow you to fuckin' pieces."

A smile spreads across Oliver's bloodied face, and he says, with a small laugh, "You don't even know who you're staying with! You Bondurant boys, whoever the hell you are, better watch your backs, and your money around her."

"Us Bondurant boys…." Howard begins, as he kneels down in front of Oliver. "…Are the brother who are gonna cut you to pieces, if you come 'round here again."

Jack had come downstairs, at that point, after hearing some commotion outside. He'd been curious about who the man was, lying under Howard's strong grip and his rifle, and what he had done to get there. Howard had to tell Jack, three times, to take Maggie inside, before he'd listened. And he'd only listened because Howard had raised his voice, and looked at him with a maddening glint in his eyes. Jack knew, immediately, to listen to Howard when he looked like that.

He'd obliged, a little reluctantly, and had followed Maggie inside. Once inside, Jack had bombarded Maggie with questions that she didn't have the answers for. So, she put on the realest smile she could find, and told him not to worry about a thing, and that the man was a straggler who had wanted more than he'd paid for, but Howard would take care of it. Jack had agreed to go back, to bed, after a little convincing from Maggie that he needed his rest.

And Howard did take care of him. He didn't kill him, but he did give him a couple more punches, before he'd sent him on his way – he'd waited, with his rifle pointed at Oliver's car, until Oliver had driven back off, into town.

Howard grabs two jars of moonshine, that he plans to drink up in his room, and joins Maggie inside the station. He locks up the station, for her, and walks towards her. She doesn't look up at him, or acknowledge his presence as he moves around the station. She's sitting down the far end of the bench; a cigarette rests between her fingers, as she exhales smoke from her mouth. She doesn't turn to look at Howard, as he staggers over his drunken feet, towards where she is sitting. He puts his rifle down on to the bench, and then leans on the bench so he's looking directly at her.

"You…..OK?" Howard asks, as he keeps his eyes on Maggie.

He's not real good at this – at talking to anyone, about their problems, or his own. It usually makes him feel awkward when any of the men he drinks with start rambling on about their 'problems' which are usually nothing. But with Maggie, for some reason, it's different. For some very strange reason, he feels like he wants to help her, he doesn't know how the hell to do that. But, he guesses asking if she's ok is a good place to start.

Maggie nods, in response, as she finishes off her cigarette. She stubs it out, and turns to look at Howard. "That stuff any good?" She asks, as she watches him remove the lid of one of the jars in his hands.

He looks down at the jar, with his bloodshot eyes, and then back up to Maggie, "Best you'd find…Why?" He asks, with a small frown on his face. "You want some….?"

Maggie answers Howard by taking the jar from his hands. She presses it to her red lips, and closes her eyes, as she swallows from the jar. She'd sworn she wouldn't drink again, not after what she went through with her father, and Oliver. She'd stopped herself from the temptation, many times. But tonight, she couldn't stop herself. Not after hearing _his_ untrue words, which hurt her so badly.

She removes the jar from her lips, and lets out a small sigh. "Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna sit down?" She asks Howard, as she opens her eyes and offers the jar to him.

He takes it, without hesitation, and eases down on to the stool next to Maggie.

After swallowing a very large mouthful, Howard asks, "You know…that jackass…?"

"….Long time ago." She replies, as she takes the jar from the bench and takes a larger mouthful, than her first, from it. "Don't want to talk 'bout it." She adds.

Howard nods, as he mutters, "Fine with me…"

And those are the last words that Maggie remembers hearing. She continues to drink, with Howard, for the rest of the night until he decides she's had enough. He carries her, upstairs, to her room and kicks back the blankets of her bed with his right boot. Then, he sets her down into bed and pulls the sheets over her body. She's asleep in seconds, but it isn't a pleasant sleep. She spends it dreaming of Forrest, dying, covered in his own blood. And the blood won't stop coming. It's swallowing him up, and staining her hands. And she can't help him; she can't stop him from bleeding. The blood is everywhere, and she can't get rid of it.

Maggie wakes, earlier than she usually does, to find that she is in her bed. She lies there, for a moment, as the early morning sun slips through the window above her bed. The orange morning light falls down, almost peacefully, into her room. She pulls herself out of bed and decides to have a quick bath, to remove the makeup left on her skin from the previous day and to clean her skin of the dirtiness that she feels from drinking last night.

She changes into a clean red and brown blouse, with brown pants and light brown heels. Once dressed, she brushes her hair, and fixes it, before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

She finds that Howard and Jack aren't awake yet, so she opens up the station and begins to cook breakfast for the boys; an omelet each, a side of bacon, a plate of sliced oranges and some coffee.

She doesn't feel too bad, considering she drank a lot last night. She doesn't have a clear memory of what happened last night, but she does feel embarrassed for drinking, in front of Howard. She hopes he will come down, first, so that she can apologize and they can never speak of it again.

"Mornin'…" Howard, who creeps up on Maggie, says from the middle of the room, where he'd stopped walking at the sight of her moving around in the kitchen, happily, like every other morning – like nothing had happened last night.

"Morning," Maggie says, with a smile. "This is yours." She adds, gesturing to one of the two plates.

Howard sits down, without a word, and takes a long drink from the mug of coffee. He looks tired, like he hasn't slept much, as he drinks from the mug. His eyes are still a little blood-shot, but he looks better in comparison to other mornings, when he didn't stop drinking until he sat down for breakfast.

He looks up at Maggie, who is already watching him, and waits for her to say something.

"I'm sorry…about last night. I don't drink, ever." She says, because she feels like she owes him some kind of apology for the way she acted.

"…Fine…" He mutters, as he takes another sip of coffee.

Howard doesn't really see the need for an apology from Maggie seeing as she was just having a drink.

Maggie nods, slowly, and continues with a soft voice, "I just…I'm not usually like that. I'm sorry."

Howard shakes his head, slightly, and says with a big smile, "Wasn't so bad. You were laughin', a lot. And you danced a lil…"

"Oh…no, did I?" She asks, as a genuine smile of embarrassment and amusement, spreads on to her face. "Please, forget it, Howard."

"Forget what?" Jack asks, as he enters the room unannounced and unexpectedly.

He looks much better, now, and he seems to be moving a little faster. Maggie guesses that seeing Bertha again must have put the spark back into him.

Howard turns from Jack, to Maggie, and says, "Maggie broke a plate – shattered all over…the floor."

Howard winks at her, slyly so that only she will see, and begins to eat his omelet. It was just a few drinks – she did drink a lot, but he guesses it was just what she needed since that creep came back to the station.

"It's OK. We never even had much to eat, off the plates, 'till you came 'round." Jack says, grinning, as he sits down on the stool next to Maggie.

"I'm gonna go in…see Forrest." Howard announces, as he finishes off his eggs. He's eaten everything on his place except a few slices of orange.

"Ain't you gonna finish those?" Maggie asks, gesturing towards the oranges.

Howard, who is already on his feet, hesitates before he takes some of the orange slices in his hand. He'll eat them on the way in.

Jack begins to speak, with a mouth full of eggs, to say he'll come – but Howard stops him, and says, "Might get busy….'round here. Stick 'round, Maggie might need some help."

Maggie eyes Howard off, a little suspiciously, but continues with her work behind the bench. Howard means well, he just wants to make sure that if Oliver does return today, that Jack is around. In the daylight, Maggie doesn't feel so afraid of Oliver. If he comes around today, she won't hesitate to keep him away with the carving knife resting on the sink.

Her mother was right when she said things were always better in the light. Maggie feels stronger today, in the light.

Howard eats half of the oranges slices, and drinks from a full bottle of moonshine, as he drives into town to visit Forrest. He tightens the lid of the jar, and leaves it on the car floor for the journey back home. He takes the remaining two slices of orange in his left hand, slides out of the car, and closes the door with his right hand. As he turns, to step up on to the street, he bumps into someone, or something.

The orange slices slip from his hands, on the ground beneath him, and he curses himself, silently for being such a fool. They were the best tasting oranges he's had in a while. Howard looks up, to see a brown-haired woman wearing a short-sleeved, long, blue and white dress. Her brown hair reaches her shoulders, and is nicely curled. What catches his attention the most; however, are her deep brown eyes. There's just something about them that makes Howard's heart almost stop in his chest, something he's certainly never experienced before.

"I'm so sorry." She says, with a smile, as she bends down to pick up the oranges.

"No. Don't touch those; they ain't no good now…" He says, as he nervously removes his hat from his head.

Already, he can feel his hands sweating. And his heart hasn't stopped, it's thumping in his chest.

"I'm sorry." She apologizes, again, as she stands and runs her fingers down the front of her dress.

"I…. sorry…'bout your dress." Howard says, as his eyes flicker down to the smallest, lightest spot of orange that has now stained part of her dress.

"Evie Sinclair." She says, smiling at Howard, as she extends her hand to him.

"I'm Forrest – no…sorry." Howard blurts out. "I'm here… to see Forrest. I'm Howard." He corrects himself, as he quickly shakes her hand.

"Bondurant?" She asks, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Yeah….why?" Howard asks, with a small frown on his face, as he stops avoiding her gaze and looks at her.

"I've heard a lot 'bout you, Howard Bondurant." She tells him, with a more serious face, as she removes her hand from his.

Howard's smile fades from his face, his forehead begins to crease slightly and his hands become, for some odd reason, sweatier than earlier.

And then, the smile breaks out on her face. "I'm messin' with you, Howard. I've always wanted to say that."

Howard laughs, a little nervously, at this and says, "Haven't seen you 'round here before, Evie."

Evie takes in Howard's words, and answers, "Maybe you ain't looked hard enough."

"Good to see you, Evelyn!" A woman, passing by, says with a smile.

"You too." Evie replies, as she keeps her eyes on Howard.

He looks at her, with a slight frown, as he says, "Evelyn?"

"Please, don't call me that. I don't like it all that much." Evie says, with a friendly smile, as she keeps her eyes on Howard. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Howard. Maybe, if you look hard enough, I'll see you 'round some time."

"OK…Evelyn." Howard answers, with a bigger grin, as he begins walking away, towards the hospital.

Howard can still see Evie smiling, as he turns away. And for some reason, as he walks towards the hospital, he can't wipe the damn grin off of his own face.

He finds a doctor, just leaving Forrest's room. The doctor had just removed Forrest's old bandages, cleaned his wounds and re-bandaged his stomach, chest and shoulder. As Howard steps inside, Forrest is sitting on the edge of his bed. Beads of sweat rest on his forehead, he looks tired, and maybe even a little sick. But, he'll make it through this. Only Forrest could, and only Forrest will.

"What'd the doctor say?" Howard asks, as he closes the door behind him, like he does every other time he visits Forrest.

And, it seems like he's been visiting Forrest, in the hospital, a little too much for his liking. He hopes that this will be the last time, but he doubts it. Forrest doesn't always seek out trouble, but it seems to find him, and once it finds him he doesn't shy from it. He's always been a good man, and always will be. And he'll always do what he thinks is right, it doesn't matter if it is right – even though it usually is.

"Few days…" Forrest mutters, in response. "What're you doin' here, Howard?" He asks, as he lifts his eyes from the floor to Howard, who has removed his hat.

"Just checkin' on you…." Howard comments.

"I'm alright." Forrest answers, quickly.

"Uh….that all?" Forrest asks Howard, as he looks back up to his brother.

Howard nods, and slowly says, "Yeah…there was…just…somethin' happened at the station. Thought you might wanna know…."

Forrest clears his dry throat, and keeps his eyes on Howard, as he asks, "What happened, Howard?"

Forrest seems to sit up, straighter, after hearing Howard's words. He's not showing it on the outside, to Howard, but inside he thinks of Maggie, and is instantly worried that something might have happened to her.

"Jus…this creep, was hangin' 'round the station…I've seen him there before." Howard tells him, as he takes a few steps towards Forrest's bedside. He stops, a couple feet away, and waits for Forrest to answer.

"What was he doin'?" Forrest asks, with a tone of annoyance because Howard hasn't confirmed or denied his silent fears that something might have happened to Maggie.

Howard, who is now spinning his hat around in his hands, says, "He said somethin' bout us watchin' our money 'round Maggie….Didn't hear much. She was a bit shaky after he left, drank a lil' bit."

Howard knows he probably shouldn't have told Forrest that Maggie was drinking, but it seemed like the two of them had something – he wasn't sure what, but he'd noticed something between them from the start. He'd noticed the way her eyes would linger on Forrest, whenever he was in or left a room, and Forrest would do the same thing around her. And he seemed very protective of her.

Forrest nods, slowly, and says, "Did he touch her?"

"First night I saw him….Had her by the neck…He won't be comin' 'round again." Howard answers.

Those words, and Howard's lateness in telling Forrest this, make him beyond angry, or furious. His body stiffens up, instantly, but his face continues to hold the same unreadable expression it always has. Howard notices this, immediately, and takes a small step back.

"Now, Forrest…." He begins, with his hands up, as he begins to try to explain why he didn't tell Forrest about the man hurting Maggie.

Forrest stops Howard speaking, by saying, loudly, "You see him again, Howard, you put a bullet in him. Now, you go on back home, an' send Maggie over here."

Just after lunchtime, Howard comes back to the station half-drunk and in a bad mood, and tells Maggie that Forrest wants to see her. She finishes up with the potatoes she was peeling, and drives into town to see him.

"You shouldn't be up." Maggie tells Forrest, as she steps through the doorway to find him, standing by the window.

He turns, quickly, to look at her and makes a low grunting sound, in response, as he steps towards the bed. His body aches with each and every movement, little or big, and each step pains him just as bad as the first. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaving plenty of room for Maggie to sit down next to him.

He lets out a deep breath of air, he didn't know he was holding, and tries to focus on anything but the pain that he is now feeling in his chest. The doctor's had told him it would take a very long time for him to heal, completely, and he understands but that doesn't mean he likes it one bit. He hates feeling like this – useless, weak, vulnerable. He is none of those things, so to feel that way, even if only for a second, is enough to put him a in a bad mood.

"How are you feelin'?" She asks, as she moves towards the bed.

Her curls bounce as she walks, towards him. She moves a little slower, but still with a small smile on her face. Forrest notices that her face is a little paler, and she looks tired, like she didn't get much sleep.

"I'm alright." He answers, as he continues to watch her, intently, as she takes a seat down on the bed next to him.

She says, softly, "Howard said…."

"Uh…Mmm…." He mutters, and looks up at Maggie. "Reckon it's 'bout time Howard moved into the spare room?" He suggests.

He watches her as a small frown falls on her smooth features. She looks up at him, with confusion swirling in her blue-green eyes, and says, "You want me to leave the station?"

Forrest's brow creases, as he shakes his head, slowly, and says in a low voice, "No…"

Now, Maggie understands what Forrest is saying. Howard has been staying in Forrest's room, since there are no free rooms, so he's suggesting she move into his room, and Howard take the spare room.

She nods, with a smile on her face, and says, "OK."

"Alright then…." Forrest mutters, and leaves it at that because there's no need to make it into a big deal, when it isn't. "Now…." He begins, but stops to clear his throat. "Maggie….Nobody ain't ever gonna hurt you again."

The smile falters on her lips, before disappearing entirely. She presses her lips together, as she does sometimes when she is upset or nervous, and keeps her eyes on Forrest's.

Forrest continues, "I ain't gonna let that happen, you understand me?"

She nods, as a few tears roll down her cheeks. She understands Forrest, she always has. He can't hide from her, and he's not always completely unreadable to her. She sees the side to him that others can't seem to find. And he sees the side to her she doesn't let anyone see.

He can see that she needs some reassurance, she needs him. And she can see he needs her.

"You're safe, with _us_, Maggie." He tells her.

Those few simple words, which separately mean little, mean so very much to Maggie in this moment. She feels safer with Forrest, and Howard and Jack, than she's ever felt in her life.

She nods, but says nothing, as she raises her hand to wipe the fallen tears from her cheeks.

Forrest keeps his eyes on her, as he says, "Now, you go on home."

It is her home, now. From that first day, when she asked about the job, Forrest had a feeling that she'd be sticking around the station. She'd felt the same thing. There was something about the place; the peacefulness, at times, perhaps, that made her feel safe. It was, however, the people in it – the Bondurant brothers, to be exact, that made it feel like home to Maggie.

She knew, on that night she found Forrest with his throat cut ear to ear, that she would never, ever leave him while her heart was still beating. She'd almost left him, that next day, because she was frightened but he'd talked her into staying, and staying was one of the best decision's she'd ever made. Now, that he had come into her life, she couldn't ever imagine herself living without him.

She nods, and stands from the bed. Once on her feet, she leans down, closer to Forrest, and kisses him, gently, on the forehead. "I'll come by tomorrow." She tells him.

He nods at her, and makes a low, grunting noise before he watches her leave the room. As she closes the door, he stands from his bed and moves towards the window. From where he stands, he can see Maggie walking towards her car. She looks over her shoulder twice, but doesn't see Forrest, before she gets into her car.

Forrest didn't think he'd feel this way, about someone, ever. He wasn't sure he was capable of feeling this way. He'd never thought someone, that wasn't family, could mean this much to him. He only wants to protect Maggie, like he protects his brothers, and take care of her like he, has and always will, take care of them. Because they're his family, and that's what they have, and always will, do for each other.

**A/N: Hi! First off, I want to say thank you very much to everyone who takes the time to read this. It really means a lot. Thank you to those of you who have followed or favourited me, and reviewed. Thank you so very much!**

**I hope you're still enjoying reading it, because I'm still enjoying writing it, so let me know what you think. :)**

**Dear Guest reviewer who posted as Guest on Chapter 2;  
Thank you so much! I'm so happy to hear that you love it. Wow, thank you so much! It really means a lot to hear you say that I have captured the essence of the characters perfectly. Thank you!**

**Thanks! X**


	4. As before I went under

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I own only the O/C characters and ideas created of this story.**

* * *

**ONE WEEK LATER.**

One week, with no strangers or haunting reminders stepping out of the dark of the night and no blood in her dreams or reality, passes Maggie by quickly. On the other hand, the week had passed Forrest by, so incredibly slowly. He felt useless, being in the hospital, and the four walls that had surrounded him for his two week stay while he was recuperating were slowly driving him mad.

He'd paced around his room, a fair bit. But the doctor's would catch him, and advise him otherwise. And he'd, reluctantly, take their advice because the sooner he healed, the sooner he'd get back home.

Maggie had visited him most days, but Howard and Jack had come by, the most, that week. Jack had rambled on, a lot, about Rakes' death, about the scar he'd gotten from the bullet, and about his plans to buy a house, for him and Bertha, because they were going to get married one day. Howard had, eventually, told Jack to shut up.

Howard had stepped in and told Jack to shut up because it was one bullet hole, and one scar, whereas Forrest had been shot several times, with at least several scars. Not including the long scar that ran ear to ear, across his neck, which he will wear for a very long time, because of Howard.

Forrest had told Jack it was about time they met Bertha then, considering they'd heard so much about her and Jack had plans to marry her. Forrest had also said for Jack to bring her by the house, in a couple days, after he'd settled back in at home. Jack had told Bertha this, and she'd told him she'd come by in a week, or a bit, so that Forrest could rest and heal properly, without having to entertain guests.

A couple days before he was due to come home, Howard had stayed behind after he and Jack had visited, and told Forrest that the creep hadn't returned. Forrest had grunted, nodded, and told Howard that day to send Maggie over here, in two days, to take him home.

Forrest had watched her car pull up, from his window, and had picked up his suitcase in his right hand, his hat in his left, and walked right out of the hospital in his clean brown shirt, grey cardigan and brown slacks.

He finds Maggie, wearing a long sleeved, light blue dress that stops before reaching her ankles, outside of the hospital. The heels she wears, the same light blue color, clack on the ground as she walks towards him. Her curls bounce as she walks towards him, as a smile falls on to her face as she sees him. He can't help but think how beautiful she is, and how there had always been something there, from the beginning, between them, and how there always will be something between them.

With a smile on her red lips, she lifts the suitcase from his hands and says, "I'll take that."

He's reluctant to give it to her, because he's not a cripple and he sure as hell isn't useless, but he doesn't object, for today.

"How are you feelin'?" she asks him, as they walk towards her car.

Maggie had parked it as close as she could to the hospital, so Forrest wouldn't have to walk too far.

"Mmmm…Alright." Forrest mutters, as he watches Maggie put his suitcase away in the back of her car.

He walks around, slowly, towards the passenger seat of the car, opens the door and sits down on the seat. He'd guessed, already, that Maggie would insist on driving. He can hear her heels clacking on the ground, again, as she walks around to the driver's side, of the car. His eyes, which had previously rested on the rear-view mirror of the car, on Maggie, fall down to the seat of her car.

He hadn't noticed it, when he'd first entered the car, but now he can see, clearly, that there are a few light spots of blood splattered across the seat. The question, if it is her blood or his on the seat, taunts him.

He sits, silently, staring at the spots as he is reminded of that night. The night that they'd held his arms down, and cut his throat ear to ear. The night that they'd left him to hold his throat together, they'd left him to die. He doesn't remember all that much from that night.

The last thing he remembers is clutching, desperately, at his slashed open neck, trying to keep it together, as a warm sensation flowed down his arms, neck and chest – the blood. There was so much blood that night. He was almost certain he'd die, that snowy, cold night. He probably would have died if it weren't for Maggie. She saved him, but by saving him she put herself through something horrible, something no one should ever have to go through. And because of that, he'll never stop feeling guilty. He'll never stop feeling responsible for what happened to her, and he'll never stop protecting her.

Maggie catches Forrest, through the window of the car, staring at the spots of blood that despite her hard efforts wouldn't come out of that damn seat. She freezes, for a brief second, as she waits for some or any kind of reaction from Forrest. But he doesn't give her one. He doesn't look up at her, or acknowledge her presence; he doesn't even, for a moment, seem to breathe or blink.

She had scrubbed, so very hard, at the car seat and at her own skin that night. She'd scrubbed herself so hard that her skin could've bled. She's not entirely sure if her skin did bleed as she sat shivering, scrubbing and stained, in the bathtub. There was so much blood that night; she had been covered in both hers and Forrest's blood.

She takes in a small breath of air, exhales, and opens the car door as she attempts to keep herself together. As she sits down, in the driver's seat, and closes the door, Forrest continues to stare at those few spots of blood. Then, he lifts his eyes, slowly, up to look at Maggie. Her hands are resting on the wheel, but she doesn't move. He can see them shaking, ever so slightly. He notices this because he notices everything about her.

Forrest coughs, to clear his throat, and then says, "Maggie…."

She turns to look at him the second his name passes through his lips. She lowers her hands, to her side, where they rest on the seat. He lifts his right hand, slowly, to her soft cheek, and rests it there. She closes her eyes, at his touch, as an involuntary, stray tear rolls downs her cheek. It hits his hand, and trickles down his thumb. Then, she feels his soft lips against her own. She lifts her own hand, to his cheek, as she moves in, closer to him. When he pulls away from her, and lowers his hand back to his lap, he finds that her eyes are open, and there are no new tears, only the remains of the first few drops that had fallen down her cheeks.

Maggie lowers her hand from his cheek, and back to her own lap. She looks back up to Forrest, who is, as he usually is, already watching her.

"When they….That night I woke up …." Forrest begins, as he lowers his gaze slightly. "Doctor came in….askin' what I wanted, 'cause he thought I was gonna die….I said I wanted a minister."

Maggie raises a hand, to her own cheek, and wipes away the remains of her tears. "I don't understand, Forrest…." she says, softly.

Forrest coughs twice, to clears his throat again, and says, with a lower voice, "Uh….hmm. I was thinkin'…Mmm….I ain't ever gonna want anyone...but you….Asked the minister if he could marry us, today."

It takes Maggie a moment to understand what Forrest is saying, and once the realization sets in she can't fight the smile that spreads across her face.

She looks at him, and coolly says, "Are you askin' me to marry you, Forrest Bondurant?"

"Uh….mmm…" he mutters, "If you wanted…"

"Yes. Yes, of course I want to." she answers, with a bigger smile, if possible, than earlier.

This surprises Forrest – he didn't expect her to say no, but he didn't expect her to say yes either. From the beginning, he always knew that there was something special about Maggie Beauford. At first, when he'd started to want to protect her, and take care of her, and hold her, he'd pushed the feelings down and called himself foolish, because a girl like that couldn't possibly be interested in him. He'd called himself foolish for feeling such things.

But over time, those feelings had strengthened and grown into something real, something stronger that he couldn't ignore. When she'd come to his bedside, after they'd cut his throat, and she'd starting crying, he'd wanted to take care of her. And again, when he'd realized what those men had done to her, he'd wanted more than anything to hold her, tightly, in his arms. She is, to him, everything that he never knew existed; everything he never knew that he'd wanted or needed. And he wanted her just as badly as he needed her. At times, he considered the thought of her leaving, and the very idea of the two of them living separate lives was unbearable.

Since finding her, he could not live a second of his life not with her. Now that he knew that she existed, he couldn't lose her. She makes him want to be a better person, to become the man that she deserves. It doesn't matter how long he lives – even if he lives to be one hundred years old, he isn't going to want anyone else but her.

Maggie understands that she doesn't have the time to change, but she doesn't mind. She doesn't need a proper wedding dress, she doesn't want it either. She doesn't want or need a proper wedding. She wants to be with Forrest, always. She doesn't need to make it into something huge, with all of her friends because she considers herself to have three friends: Forrest, Howard and Jack.

And why she would like for Howard and Jack to be there, she understands Forrest, better than anyone else, and she understands that he doesn't want to turn this into something big.

Forrest loves Maggie, and he wants to marry her, but he doesn't want to make a big deal out of the wedding. He still feels weak, and a little unsteady on his legs, when he walks. The loss of blood, and all of the bullets that had hit him, have taken their toll on his body, and he feels weaker than he ever has. He'll get stronger, with time.

He can't wait another day to marry Maggie. Because, he's convinced himself that by marrying her, he'll never lose her. By marrying her, he'll always be there with her, and for her. He can protect her, always. Take care of her, always. And make sure she's never hurt again. They'll be together, always. Marrying Maggie is one of the only things he's ever been certain of in his life.

She understands him, better than he would have anyone understand him. She is the only one who really, truly understands him. And he doesn't mind as much as he thought he would. They don't have to say much to each other; at times they don't need words. A simple glance, or just being there, says more than any words that they could find in that moment.

The church is empty, apart from the minister waiting for Forrest, when they arrive at the church. He'd told Maggie on the way to the church that it was going to be a simple wedding, nothing fancy. She'd told him that she didn't want anything fancy and that simple sounded perfect to her. It was simple. She'd walked with Forrest, down the aisle, and they'd stood, side by side, as they were married.

Forrest had barely lifted his eyes from Maggie for two seconds, during the ceremony. He'd only glanced up at the minister once or twice. The whole time, he couldn't stop himself wondering if this was all in his head, if this was really happening, perhaps he was dead. Perhaps, he'd died at the bridge and this was his heaven.

He was wondering when he'd wake up from all this, because as he stood there, watching his soon to be wife beaming, and shining, underneath the light that had slipped through the church windows and fallen on her, making her more beautiful if that was possible, it all felt too good to be true.

Forrest had told Maggie he'd wanted to wait, until things had cooled down in town, before people started finding out she was married to Forrest Bondurant. Besides, he didn't think it was anyone else's business but theirs. It was a simple precaution, if anyone came looking for their revenge against those responsible for Rake's death. He doubts that would happen, but it was just another way for him to keep Maggie safe.

As he pulled out his mama's wedding ring, and slipped it on Maggie's finger, the smile had stayed on her face as his eyes had stayed, almost glued, on her. As the minister announced them husband and wife, the smile that had played on Forrest's lips during the ceremony had spread across his face.

Maggie caught sight of his smile, put her arms on his neck, and pulled him into her. He'd lowered his hands to her waist, and they'd kissed. Forrest had, at first, felt uncomfortable about kissing in front of the minister, but in that moment that Maggie Beauford had become Maggie Bondurant, his wife, he'd forgotten about everyone else but her.

She was his, and he was hers, just as it was meant to be from that first handshake.

"Forrest's back!" Jack announces, to Howard, as he catches sight of Maggie's car through the window.

"Got eyes….Jack…" Howard mumbles, grumpily, to himself, as he follows after an enthusiastic and eager Jack, who races outside to see his brother returning home.

Forrest looks a little better, as he steps down from the car and begins walking, slowly, towards the house. His eyes move from Maggie, at the back of the car, to his brother's standing on the verandah.

"You two just gonna stand there…mouths hanging open….Or….You gonna take the bag off the lady?" Forrest asks, with a small frown on his face.

"Good to have you back, Forrest!" Jack says, with a big smile, as he moves past Forrest and towards the suitcase in Maggie's hands.

Maggie protests at first, because it really isn't that heavy. She continues to tell Jack she can take it but he continues to insist that he can, and the two are left, standing there for a moment, both insisting they can take the suitcase.

Forrest looks, slowly, from Jack and Maggie back up to Howard, who nods and steps towards the two of them, he leans down and pulls the bag from both of their hands, and carries it up to Forrest's room.

Forrest, who hadn't moved from where he had stopped on the grass, waits for Maggie to join him. When she reaches his side, he walks with her up the stairs, and as they reach the door he opens it, and waits for her to step inside.

Maggie steps behind the bench, and begins to cook up lunch for the three boys. She glances up at Forrest, who is sitting at the bench, between Howard and Jack. It's an almost unusual and rare thing for Maggie to see – the three brothers, sitting together, instead of spread across the station. Howard is laughing at Jack, as usual, who looks a little grumpy. Jack is enthusiastically describing the shoot-out scene, to Maggie and Forrest, for the seventh time. And Forrest is sitting in the middle of his brothers, nodding and grunting occasionally, but for most of the time he watches Maggie.

She serves them lunch, some cold drinks, and watches them eat from behind the counter. She thinks, as she looks up at Forrest, and his brothers, that this is how things were meant to be.

She can see herself living out the rest of her life here, with these three brothers who have come to mean so very much to her. And thinking of that future, that they could all have together, puts a smile on her face that she can't hide. She'd came to the station, looking for a job, but instead she'd found a family that she belonged to - the Bondurant family, that she'll always be a part of.

**A/N: First of, thank you to my sister who reads and listens to rants. You're awesome, and this story and my others wouldn't be so well put together if it weren't for you.**

**Secondly, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this and/or review. Also, to everyone who has favourited or followed the story, or me as an author, it really means so much so thank you.**

**Last thing - I know this chapter is much shorter, but this was the right time to end it - or so I thought. Maybe I'm wrong, but it just felt right. Anyway, despite the shortened length I hope you enjoy and the next chapter will be longer, I promise. This ones a little slow, I know, but it's just something that I felt should come before the pace picks up. **

**P.s Sorry for any grammatical errors. I re-read each chapter, but I always tend to miss something. So, if I have, feel free to drop me an email on here and let me know.**

**Thank you so much for reading, and reviewing.  
AND I hope you enjoy!**

Also, I wanted to say that my thoughts and prayers are with those of you in the US, during the terrible weather, I hope you all stay safe and dry, and hopefully the worst will pass through soon.


	5. And it's peaceful in the deep

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I own only the O/C characters and ideas created of this story.**

* * *

The wind that howls, and scratches at the windows of the station, on the cool, dark night, doesn't bother Maggie as she lies, covered by sheets and blankets, waiting for Forrest.

After dinner, she'd said goodnight to the brothers and gone to bed. Forrest had stayed downstairs, with his brothers, for a few more hours after that. They'd talked, and drank, and Howard had laughed a lot. He was drunker than Jack and Forrest combined.

Forrest had left, first, and stumbled over his drunken feet upstairs. He'd stopped, before reaching his own room. He'd stood in the doorway, silently, for a moment as he watched Maggie in the darkness. She lies with her back towards him, her chest lifting in and out slowly.

He'd tried not to wake her, as he stepped inside the room that they know shared, closing the door behind him. But she hadn't been sleeping. She would never tell Forrest this but she'd found it difficult to sleep without him. She'd slept after she drank with Howard, because she had drunk a lot and felt horribly sick.

"Didn't mean….to wake you….." Forrest says, with a low voice, while their backs remain to each other as he removes his shoes.

How he knew she was awake, when they weren't facing the other, she would never know. Forrest was always incredibly observant, and so very intelligent.

"You didn't." Maggie replies, softly, as she rolls over to face him.

She won't tell him this, or anyone, but she finds it terribly difficult to sleep without Forrest by her side, or even in the same house. She hadn't realized how protected she had felt, with him just breathing in the same house as her, until he had gone.

He stays silent as he gets into bed, under the sheets next to her. She closes her eyes, now, as she feels him watching her. A small, silent sigh passes through Maggie's lips. With Forrest, lying next to her, she feels better already. She feels like she can sleep, safely, with no fears of what lies in the dark.

Forrest continues to watch Maggie, as he tells her, "Get some sleep, now."

She opens her eyes and leans forward, closer to him. As she moves, he sees a chain hanging from her neck – off the chain, hangs his mother's wedding ring. She'd listened to him, when he'd told her they should keep today between them.

"Night," she whispers, before presses a gentle kiss to his lips.

Instead of turning away, or moving back to where she lay seconds earlier, Maggie lowers herself down beside Forrest, and rests herself, ever so gently, near his shoulder. She wants to be close to him, always. He doesn't say another word as he watches her fall, slowly, to sleep. She looks so peaceful, lying beside him.

Forrest doesn't sleep at all that night. He spends most of the night watching Maggie, breathing slowly and sleeping peaceful. He closes his eyes, eventually, but finds he cannot sleep for even a minute.

When the morning light comes, he moves, so careful to not wake Maggie, out of their bed. And after changing into some clean clothes, he pulls on his shoes and moves, a little slowly, downstairs.

The pain is easing up, but it's still there. He'd like it to be gone completely, and to not feel a thing, but he won't complain, not today or any day soon because he's married to Maggie, and that's enough to numb the pain, even if only for a little while.

He finds his brothers are still sleeping but isn't surprised by that at all. Howard will either be sleeping for a few more hours, or he'll be up soon, and drinking some liquor filled coffee.

Forrest begins pondering around in the kitchen, until he decides what he's going to make Maggie for breakfast. He'd noticed, but hadn't said anything, that she hadn't been eating much lately. He can only recall that, before he left, he saw her eat breakfast or dinner a few times.

Maggie stirs, upstairs, in their bed. As her eyes open, to find Forrest's side of the bed empty, she can feel her heart stop in her chest as the panic sets in – the panic that their wedding, and his survival of the shoot-out, was all a dream. She lifts her left hand, to the chain around her neck, and clutches at it until she finds the ring hanging off it.

The panic fades, now, and a small breath of air passes through her lips. She hears someone moving around, downstairs, and decides to get up. After changing into a fresh, light purple and white long sleeved blouse and a brown skirt, she brushes her hair out in front of the mirror and pulls on her brown heels.

At first, she walks a little cautiously down the stairs, until she sees that it is Forrest, behind the bench, with his back to her. When he turns around, she greets him with a smile and takes a seat on one of the stools. He serves her a plate of toast, with jam, and a mug of orange juice. She smiles, and thanks him. He grunts, and mutters something about it being no big deal, before he walks around and joins her.

They sit in a comfortable and happy silence, in which Forrest notes that Maggie eats everything on her plate and he is silently pleased about that. He can't have her getting sick from not eating.

Just as Forrest is done with his breakfast, Howard and Jack come down. Maggie cooks them up something, quickly. She watches from the window as Forrest and Howard take a walk, down towards the back of the farm, without Jack. She'd noticed them talking, briefly, on the verandah. Forrest had looked serious, as always, and Howard had looked grumpy, and hung-over.

Once Maggie is finished inside, she takes a seat out on the verandah and begins to peel some potatoes for dinner. Jack comes out, after changing into something nice, and blushes a little when he tells her that Bertha is coming by the house today. Maggie almost gasps, as she asks Jack why he didn't tell her earlier because now she has to find something nicer for lunch, for Bertha.

The sound of an approaching car engine alerts Maggie that Bertha is already here, for lunch. She looks up at the car, in the distance, and says to Jack, "Bertha's here? She sure has lunch early…."

He shakes his head, as he replies, "That ain't Bertha….She don't have a car."

Jack looks down to Maggie, who is staring out, with an expression devoid of any emotion, at the approaching car. Then, his eyes drop down to her left hand – blood is trickling out of her hand. The knife, which is still resting in her right hand, is smeared with her blood.

What confuses Jack is the fact that she doesn't seem to have notice she's bleeding. She seems like she's in a daydream, or something similar.

"You alright, Maggie?" Jack asks, as he moves, quickly, to her side. "You're bleedin'." he adds.

Her eyes move, very slowly, from the car approaching to her left hand. She stares down at her hand, and the blood spilling out of it, as though she has never seen it before. She hadn't felt the knife, as it pierced and torn her skin. She must've slipped, at the sight of the car, and cut herself. She wasn't aware that she was bleeding until Jack had told her.

"Maggie?" he says her name, again.

She hears Jack's voice, this time, and responds by standing from the chair she was, for a moment, sitting peaceful in.

She says, softly but quickly, "Go and get your brothers, Jack."

When Jack doesn't move, but continues to watch Maggie, with a curiosity and a little concern, Maggie says, louder, "Go, Jack."

Jack listens this time, and steps away, a little reluctantly, away from Maggie. After a quick glance back at the car, Jack begins walking down to wherever his brother's wandered off to.

"Forrest!" Jack calls out, loudly.

He only has to call out once for Forrest to hear him. He and Howard retrace their earlier steps, and move back towards the station.

"What're you doin', Jack?" Forrest asks, as he steps out from behind the shed.

Howard follows after him, slowly, and looking a little annoyed at Jack's interruption of their conversation. They'd been talking about starting up business again, without Jack.

Jack had shown the courage that both Forrest and Howard had known was always there. He'd always tried to be someone he wasn't, and when the time came down to it, Jack did what needed to be done without blinking. By taking a life, he saved his brothers. Forrest had always known that Jack had it in him, that ability to stand up, when necessary, and be strong and fearless. He was, secretly, proud of Jack, who was in ways like his brothers but in ways, he was not.

"Car showed up….Maggie told me to come an' get you two." Jack replies, quickly.

Forrest remains frighteningly quiet, and calm, as he moves, quickly, towards the front of the station. Howard isn't far behind him, with a rifle in his hands. Jack is by Forrest's side, asking questions that Forrest doesn't want to answer, right now.

Howard had, after a few seconds, muttered angrily for Jack to shut up. Howard wasn't angry with Jack, though, he was angry that the creep had returned. He knows that Maggie wouldn't have sent Jack to get them if it had been anyone else.

Forrest finds Maggie, at a still, a not far from the front of the station. It looks as though she considered following Jack, for safety, but her feet had stopped before she'd gotten more than a few feet away from the car. She stands, with her back, to Forrest, Howard and Jack.

Forrest's eyes, which sweep over her, stop on the ground beside her where a few drops of blood have dropped down. Her left hand, which is shaky slightly, is extended away from her body, as though she doesn't quite know what to do with it or what to do about the blood trickling out of it. She holds a bloodied knife so tightly in her right hand, the skin over her knuckles is much whiter than usual.

Howard lifts his gun, and aims it at Oliver, who is standing, on a lean, with his hands in the air. Oliver's face, which is brusining in many colors, is also a little swollen. His eyes switch from Maggie to the men behind her.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Howard comments, as he takes another step towards Oliver.

Oliver takes a step back, instantly, and with his hands still in the air he explains, "I don't want any trouble."

"You hurt her?" Forrest asks, Oliver, as he turns to face him.

"Jack, take Maggie inside." Howard says, but neither Jack nor Maggie move.

Jack's eyes stay on Forrest, who he knows isn't going to stay this calm, and motionless, forever. Forrest has, for as long as Jack can remember, always been unreadable. He hasn't always been this way, the way that he is now, he changed after their parents died from the Spanish influenza and he survived. That was when he started pulling away, from his brothers, and he changed into the man he is today. Nothing is wrong with that man – he's a strong, brave, independent and fearless man of little words. There are a few things that haven't changed about Forrest, and one of those is his incredibly strong sense of what is wrong, and what is right, and what must be done to correct the wrongs.

Oliver ignores Forrest's question, and begins to say, "I just want my-"

"You ain't answerin' my question." Forrest says, cutting him off.

"I'm not here for trouble." Oliver says, as he moves to take a step forward, but he doesn't dare move further as Howard steps forward. "I just want my money, that's all. Just give me my money, Maggie, and I'll leave you alone, for good."

"Maggie…." Forrest says, still softly and slowly. "Go inside."

This time, she hears his words, and this time she listens. She nods at Forrest, as she drops the bloodied knife from her sticky, blood stained hands. She moves, cautiously and slowly, towards the stairs of the verandah.

Oliver darts, in an attempt to grab Maggie's arm, so that she may understand his words and give back what rightfully his. Howard moves faster, though, and steps forward, in front of Maggie. He hits Oliver in the face, harshly, with the back of his gun.

Oliver falls down, onto the ground, and coughs twice before looking up at Howard.

"You stupid or somethin', you son of a bitch?" Howard asks, as he keeps his gun aimed at Oliver's head. "Are you STUPID? HUH?" he adds, emphasizing the word stupid.

Oliver spits out a mouthful of blood, on the dirt, and pulls himself up, very slowly and cautiously, with his hands in the air. He says, slowly, "Look- can't we handle this civilly? I just want my money. That's all I want."

"You ain't answered my question." Forrest repeats, as he keeps his hardened and cold eyes on Oliver.

"Jack, go inside." Howard repeats, for the fourth time.

When he doesn't move, Howard takes a step towards Jack and shoves him in the direction of the house "Go." He says, with more force this time.

Jack obliges because he catches a glimpse of something in Howard's eyes. Every now and then, after Howard has been drinking a lot, and he's about ready to snap, Jack can catch a glimpse – a warning. And, from watching how Howard is when he snaps, Jack knows he should listen to him.

Oliver shakes his head, as he says, loudly. "You're not listening to me. Just listen, alright? My name is Oliver. I'm a lawyer, from Chicago. And that woman in there, Maggie Lyle-"

"Beauford." Forrest corrects Oliver.

Oliver stops, as a smile spreads across his bloodied face. Then, with a louder voice he says, "You don't even know who the fuck you're living with, do you? I'm just – a heads up, she's a thief. She'll marry you, like she did me, and one night she'll take all your money and run off. That's just one of the things she's failed to tell you."

Howard wonders how Forrest is able to maintain that same unreadable, expressionless face as he says, "Say another word, 'bout her, and I'll rip your throat out."

"Like those boys did to you?" Oliver asks, as he steps forward and gestures towards Forrest's throat, which still holds the thick scars that run from ear to ear. Oliver continues, with a small smile. "I heard about that in town. I wouldn't be surprised, fellas, if she was behind the whole…slicing incident, you know? Considering that she's a lying bitch and all."

Howard tenses up, instantly, at Oliver's choice of words, not only because he should not say such things about Maggie, but because of the look in Forrest's eyes. He would, if Maggie wasn't here, kill Oliver right here and now for saying such things about.

"She's a killer. I'm just gonna take a wild shot here, and guess she failed to mentioned that, too." Oliver says, shouting a little loudly, as he keeps his hands up in the air. "A child is dead, because of her. Did she tell you that? The police investigated her, but they couldn't get her for it. She took all of my money, after that, and fled here. I just – I want my money, OK? That's all I want, fellas. I don't want any trouble."

Forrest turns, slowly, to look at Howard. He makes a low, grunting noise and nods, slightly. Then in a swift movement, that catches Oliver by surprise, Forrest pulls his fist from his pocket, and with the brass knuckles still firmly on his hand, he hits Oliver directly in the nose.

Oliver stumbles backwards, as the force of the hit sends him down, on the dirt beneath his feet. As he spits it from his mouth, and grabs at his nose, he mutters a curse that neither brother's here.

"You gonna answer my question, now?" Forrest asks, calmly, as he pulls Oliver up off the ground by the collar of his shirt.

Oliver smirks, as he tries to break free by attempting to push Forrest backwards. This fails, however, as Forrest doesn't move an inch.

Oliver, who is still struggling under Forrest's grip, says, "I've had enough of you hicks….punching me…..I want my money. I came all this way for it. And I'm not going _anywhere_ until I have it, all. I'm not leaving her alone until I get it, so you boys better get used to seeing me."

Forrest replies, "You come 'round here again, and I'll kill you."

His grip on Oliver's shirt tightens, as he watches him continue to squirm. "No, you won't." Oliver says, still with the hint of a smile. "My father is a very successful lawyer, in Chicago. If I don't return, he'll send a group up here. And they'll catch you, and kill you. Two days from now, I want my money."

Forrest's eyes flicker from the station, back to Oliver. "Have you met Howard? Howard hates two things – jackasses, and jackasses who hurt women. Mmm….Howard's gonna teach you 'bout respect, and then you're gonna leave, and….never come back."

Forrest enters the station to find the kitchen empty except for some blood, that he knows is Maggie's, on the sink. He moves as quickly as he can towards the stairs, and upon reaching them he takes each one slowly – the pain that he feels in his chest and shoulder reminds him of what he'd previously forgotten, he'd been shot several times and needs time to heal.

He finds Jack, outside of the door to his and Maggie's bedroom. He's knocking on it, calling out to Maggie. The door isn't locked, but out of respect Jack hadn't opened it. Instead, he'd asked Maggie, several times, if she would let him in. But she continued to refuse him, as politely as she could she'd asked Jack to go away.

Upon catching sight of Forrest, Jack turns to face him and steps towards him.

With a low voice that only Forrest will hear, Jack says, "Tried cleanin' herself up. Turned my back for a second, an' she came up here. Don't want me comin' in."

"You go on, downstairs, now…." Forrest tells Jack, as he walks towards the door.

Jack nods, and for once doesn't object or ask any questions about the situation. He feels like, this time, it's something that Forrest needs to sort out with Maggie, on his own. It's Maggie's problem, and while Jack does consider any problem of hers a problem of his, he can't help her with it right now.

Forrest pushes open their bedroom door, slowly, to find Maggie, sitting on the edge of the mattress. She stands up at the sight of him standing in the doorway, and for a moment she considers leaving, so that she doesn't have to face him. But before she can leave, he steps inside the room and shuts the door behind him.

He watches her, silently and closely, for a moment. Her hands are pressed together, in an attempt to stop the bleeding. She continues to avoid his direct, and intense, gaze as he steps towards her.

"….You alright?" Forrest asks her, as he stops in front of her.

Maggie nods, as she still continues to try to hold herself together. She doesn't want to let herself fall to pieces in front of him. She can't let that happen. She presses her lips together and stays silent because, again, she finds herself too anxious to speak because she's afraid of how weak she will sound if she does.

"He won't be comin' 'round here, again." Forrest adds, in an attempt to calm her down.

When Howard's done with him, he won't come anywhere near Franklin County for as long as he lives.

Forrest's eyes flicker over Maggie, slowly. She tries to read his face, but finds nothing that could convey what he is feeling, inside – or, more important, what he is thinking about her. Part of her has always feared that Forrest would look inside her, and see what was really there, beneath the surface. And he'd want nothing to do with her. She'd understand if that was what he'd wanted, and she'd leave. She's not entirely sure where she'd go, from here, or from Forrest. There'd be no moving on from Forrest.

He steps towards her, and lifts her hand up, towards him, so that he can inspect the cut. He eyes it off, silently, for a moment. It's a small cut, a little deep but it should, if cleaned properly, be fine.

Forrest clears his throat before he says, "Said….you're married-"

"No." she says, finally speaking. Her voice is shaky, and very soft, as she repeats, "No."

Forrest doesn't speak. Instead of answering her he watches her, waiting for more of an explanation than that.

Maggie shakes her head, and pulls her hand out of Forrest's. She takes a small step away from him, and says, "Long time ago…We were…But it's over, it has been for a long time."

"Uh….Mmm….You owe him, money?" he asks, with a slight frown on his face, as he continues to watch her.

Most of the time, Maggie loves the way that Forrest's looks at her. His eyes tell her the words he won't say. They show her exactly what he is feeling. But, there are times, like now, when she feels like his eyes can see right through her. There are times when she feels like he's looking at her with pity, because he sees her as weak or broken, and she is not weak or broken.

He watches as the tiniest frown falls onto her tired features. There are times when Forrest wants to take Maggie, in his arms, and she would bury her head in his neck, and he would hold her.

She hesitates in answering because she's contemplating Forrest's words – he's asking her if she's a thief. For some odd reason, Forrest even asking that question hurts Maggie, a little. He seems to understand this because he lowers his gaze and lets out a small breath of air.

"Maggie…." he mutters, as he looks up at her finally.

"I need to clean up…downstairs." Maggie tells him, as she moves past Forrest and towards the door.

He stops her, as she passes him, by resting his hand on her wrist. She doesn't flinch, like she had when Oliver had tried to grab her, because she trusts Forrest completely, and she is not afraid of him. Maggie allows Forrest's hand to linger on hers, only for a second, before she remembers what needs to be done, downstairs.

She has to clean up her hand, and the blood on the sink, and then wash the knife. Then, she has to finish peeling the potatoes because Bertha is coming over for lunch.

"I need to clean up, downstairs." she repeats, with a softer voice, as she pulls herself away from him.

Maggie steps out of the room before Forrest can protest. She returns, before Jack's eyes, like the same person she was before all of this. He offers several times to help her with the potatoes, but she refuses each time, with that same warm smile she always wears.

Forrest had followed Maggie, downstairs, but he'd walked out of the kitchen and towards the knife that she'd discarded on the ground. As he bends down, to pick it up, he feels a tight, sharp pain through his body. He pushes it down, ignoring it, and walks back towards the station.

Once inside, he steps behind the counter, where Maggie is washing the blood off of the sink. She casts a quick look over Forrest, before thanking him and taking the knife from him. He keeps his eyes on her as she cleans the bloodied knife, and all that he can think of as the blood disappears with the water is the night that they'd cut his throat, and the memories this must bring back for Maggie.

Howard returns, shortly after, with a bloodied fist. He stays silent, around Jack and Maggie, and eyes her off a little cautiously before returning on his previous walk with Forrest. They aren't gone for long, and are back when Jack returns with Bertha. In all honesty, Maggie hadn't noticed Jack's absence straight away. She had been too preoccupied with her own thoughts.

Maggie greets Bertha, with a warm, friendly smile and compliments her dress, which she finds out Jack, bought her. It's yellow, red and brown and suits her beautifully. Forrest and Howard return moments before Bertha arrives, they remove their hats at the sight of her and greet her with a handshake.

Bertha asks, several times, while sitting at the table with Howard, Forrest and Jack if Maggie needs help finishing off lunch, to wish Maggie kindly refuses with a smile. Forrest potters over, every now and then, to ask Maggie quietly if she needs help to which, again, she refuses.

Lunch is lovely, according to Bertha who enthusiastically thanks her. Maggie can see that she's good for Jack, and she obviously makes him happy because he can't stop smiling – that is, until, Howard starts to embarrass Jack by bringing up stories that Jack doesn't find amusing, but Howard finds hilarious.

Bertha stays well into the afternoon, and as night falls Jack offers to take her back home. Maggie tells Bertha that she'll have to come around, again, to which Bertha responds she will.

After dinner, which isn't until much later that night, Maggie says good night to Forrest and Howard from the stairs, and heads upstairs. She bathes herself, quickly, and changes into her night gown.

Forrest spends most of the night downstairs, drinking and smoking cigars with Howard. He'd noticed at lunch, and at dinner, that Maggie had barely touched her food. She'd sat back, for most of the meal, either smoking a cigarette or making conversation with Bertha.

When he retires upstairs, he stands outside of their bedroom door and watches her, silently, for a minute, or two. He's not entirely sure how long he is standing there, watching her.

Soon enough, he is in bed beside Maggie. He watches her as she lies with her back to him, breathing rhythmically in an out. She appears so peaceful, as she sleeps, he thinks.

If only he could see her face as she lies, curled up underneath the blankets in which she so desperately seeks solace in each night. She seeks solace in being with Forrest, because without him she can't sleep.

He is so much a part of her that it is physically impossible for her to sleep without him beside her. It's different now, though, because as she feels his body next to hers, she can't sleep for hours. Before Forrest came to bed, tonight, she couldn't stop herself from crying for Thomas. She was afraid that one of the brothers would catch her, sobbing, and so she eventually forced herself to calm down and stop.

She had clutched, with shaking hands, to her wedding ring that hung around her neck and had thought of their wedding day, and that had slowly calmed her down. She shouldn't, with Forrest next to her, feel like this. She feels lonely, scared and frightened. She hopes, as she forces her eyes shut, that sleep will come easily, and that when she wakes in the morning light Forrest will still be beside her, because she needs him much more than he realizes.

* * *

**I'm sorry for any confusion about chapters, and lateness in updates. I'll be adding a new chapter really soon.**

**X**


	6. Cathedral, where you cannot breathe

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I own only the O/C characters and ideas created of this story.**

* * *

The chilly, silent, soft breeze moves calmly through the still room, and falls down on to Maggie and Forrest, as the sun rises, above the hills in the distance, and sets down an iridescent yellow, red and the lightest orange, on to the station. The light slips through the windows, as it does every other morning, but it seems to fall down differently this morning. It seems different, to Maggie, who usually wakes with the sun already set in the room.

But, with her inability to sleep for very long, she was awake as it rose, and had watched it fall down on the floorboards. She'd woken, countless times, throughout the night, at any creeks in the floorboards or sounds from the station. She was, for a while, almost in some sort of daze as she had watched the different colors that the sun seemed to bring this morning. She'd focused on each color, each detail that it held and how it lit up certain items and objects in the room – such as the floorboards, or Forrest's hat or gun.

Maggie rolls over, slowly, on the mattress and turns to face Forrest. He's lying, stiffly, on his back, with his hands intertwined and resting on his chest. She takes in each and every detail of him, as he lies there, with his eyes closed. She takes in the image of his hands, together, or his lips pressed gentle together. His bare chest, which is bandaged still, rises slowly and falls just as easily. She lifts her left hand, slowly, to his chest and after the slightest movement of hesitation, as she doesn't want to hurt Forrest; she lowers her hand, very carefully, to his chest. It takes its gentle place on top of where his heart would lie, underneath his skin.

Feeling Forrest's strong heart beating, under her hand, eases her nerves. She feels better, feeling his heart continue to beat, because she'd come too close too many times to losing Forrest. The soft and steady beat that she felt beneath her fingers, eases her own, fast-beating heart.

"You rest at all?" Forrest asks, with a soft voice.

Her hand drops, instantly, from his chest – he'd startled her, even with his soft voice, and his closed eyes.

"Didn't wake you, did I?" she asks, avoiding his question, as she pulls herself upwards, so she's sitting.

"You didn't." he mutters, as he opens his eyes.

He finds Maggie, standing from the mattress.

She looks down at him, as he says, "Where are you goin'?"

Maggie pulls her dressing gown, around herself, and says, "Takin' care of you."

She disappears from the room, for a few minutes, and Forrest is certain he heard her downstairs. She returns to the room with a bowl of water, a small wash cloth, some fresh bandages and some iodine. Forrest makes a low, grunting noise, as Maggie returns. He goes to move, so that he'll be sitting upwards, but Maggie stops him and insists that he if just moves his hands, off of his chest, he can remain where he is lying.

She apologizes, twice, if she woke him, and for doing this now. She carefully and gently removes the bandages from his chest – she repeats this until all of the bandages are gone. His chest oozes a little, and Maggie finds that she moves quickly, but with such care, to clean his chest. Once each of the many wounds on his chest is taken care of, she begins to place the clean, dry bandages into place.

As Maggie takes care of him, and his wounds, Forrest does not lift his eyes from her. She looks up at him, briefly, once or twice but mostly pays attention to taking care of him.

"You rest at all?" he asks her, again, and waits patiently for an answer.

"A little." she replies, vaguely and quickly.

The silence falls, between them, again as Maggie finishes off with placing the last bandage on Forrest's shoulder. She notices, but pretends not to pay any attention to, Forrest, who isn't making any attempts to hide that he is, clearly, staring at the fading bruises on her wrist. His entire body seems to tense up, at the sight of these bruises, but he remains as emotionless as ever.

"All done." she tells him, with a warm smile, as she turns to pick the bowl up from the floor.

"Uh…." Forrest begins, as he slowly, with his right hand, stops her from standing, yet.

She remains seated, and does not remove his hand from her arm, as she waits for him to continue.

He coughs, to clear his dry throat, twice and lifts his eyes to meet hers. "You got nothin' to be afraid of."

Maggie wants to believe this, but she can't. Forrest doesn't know Oliver, and what he is capable of. Forrest is, undoubtedly and unquestionably, stronger than Oliver – even with his wounds. She has seen what Forrest is capable of, and he is much more capable than Oliver. But, Oliver is sneaky, and has a strong sense of determination. He's also a very, very disillusioned drinker. Now that he has found her, he won't leave her alone – not until he gets the money that he believes he is owed, but isn't.

She took nothing from Oliver. She left him, broken and in pieces, with a suitcase full of her belongings and a packet of cigarettes. He left her with nothing, he gave her nothing, and she took nothing from him.

"I-I…Uh…." Maggie stops, as she contemplates how she will continue.

She catches Forrest watching her, intently, as he always does. He watches her with the slightest confusion, because the Maggie he knows has never been at a loss for words.

A small, shaky breath of air passes over her lips, before she, in a soft voice, says, "I didn't take his money, Forrest….He won't stop comin' 'round here….People like him, they're why I left Chicago. He's why I left Chicago."

A deeper frown falls on Forrest's features as Maggie's words set in. He remains, apart from the frown, emotionless. He just watches her, silently, for a minute, until finally he says, "You're leavin'?"

She tries to read his expression, his face, his eyes or even his voice for some or any indication of his emotions, or thoughts, but he won't show her any.

She answers, shakily, "No….I mean, if you wanted me to, I would."

"An' why would I want that?" he asks, quickly, and still with that unreadable expression of his.

"He's gonna bring trouble, here. I ain't – I can't do it. I'm not watchin' you die, or almost die, again."

"As long as I am your husband….as long as I keep breathin', Maggie, I ain't gonna let him bring any trouble, to you, or to here. You understand me?"

Forrest understands that everyone has their own past, they each have their own demons and darkness inside of them that they keep locked up, hidden from the judgmental world. But, he also understands, very well, that Maggie is the exception – she does not have a dark past, or demons that she's hiding from him, or from others. She has a pure, golden heart, and he loves her. He will, as he's always done and always will, do anything and everything to keep her safe, always.

She stands from the bed, with the bowl, bandages, and all else she bought into the room, and heads downstairs, to the kitchen, to return the items to their place.

She returns to their bedroom, and changes, quickly, into a blue and white blouse and brown pants, with light brown heels. She, also quickly, brushes her hair out and then heads downstairs, to open up the station and cook breakfast for Forrest, Howard and Jack.

Footsteps on the verandah alert her that there is a visitor, and her hand, instinctively, falls to the knife beside her. Her fears disappear as she recognizes the figure, as he steps through the door – Howard. He looks more a mess than she's seen him in weeks, like he hasn't slept for days. His hair is disheveled, his eyes are bloodshot, and she can smell the liquor on his breath as he takes his first step inside.

"Where have you been, Howard?" she asks him, with a warm smile.

The station was locked up, until Maggie unlocked it. Howard must have left last night, and not returned after Forrest looked up.

Howard shrugs, but doesn't answer Maggie, as he steps towards an empty stool and sits upon it. He doesn't answer Maggie because it was supposed to stay between him and Forrest – they're starting up the business again. This time, they're doing it without Jack. They've got a still running – Howard does, anyway. They're planning to leave, without Jack's notice, and continuing selling. Both Howard and Forrest agreed that Jack shouldn't be a part of it, this time.

If he had died, at the shoot-out, they both would have, heavily, carried his guilt to their graves.

"You hungry?" she questions, as she returns to cooking breakfast for Forrest.

"Mhm….." he mutters, in response, as he sips on the mug of coffee that Maggie had just placed before him.

She knows better than to ask questions to those who don't want to give the answers. She feels like she's become closer to Howard, lately. She's always gotten along well with Jack; he'd been friendly and eager about their friendship from the beginning. There's always been something there with her, and Forrest. Howard was, at first, the more reserved brother, towards Maggie. But they'd been much closer lately, and she was happy because for the first time, in a very, very long time, she had three friends that she knew she could always count on, and they could always count on her.

Forrest comes down to breakfast, minutes after Maggie serves Howard up some breakfast. She passes Forrest the same food that she'd passed Howard: sliced oranges on a smaller, separate plate, scrambled eggs with toast and a mug of coffee.

Maggie has a smaller plate; jam, on toast, and a mug of coffee. The three of them eat quietly and contentedly. That is, until, Maggie returns behind the bench, and as she takes the plate from Howard, her eyes fall down to Howard's bloodied knuckles. She lifts her eyes, quickly, and hopefully unnoticed. But Forrest noticed, he notices everything about her.

She continues with a smile, because she is fine. She feels better, now, with them. Hearing Jack's voice, as he comes down to join them, also puts a smile on her face because she knows, in minutes, he and Howard will be arguing, or joking around, and that always puts her in a good mood.

Forrest watches her, as he always does, as she tends to tasks behind the bench. Once finished his meal, he follows Jack, outside, and says, "Uh….Mmm…Goin' into town….With Howard."

"What're you doin' in town?" Jack asks, curiously, as he continues to eat orange slices.

"Seein'….the doctor…Won't be long. Uh…mm…you stay here, alright." Forrest says, as his eyes flicker over to Howard, who is exiting the station.

"Seein' the doctor? You alright, Forrest?" he asks, with a panicked voice.

Forrest nods, very slowly, and says, "I'm alright, Jack….Won't be long. Now, you stay here."

After finishing her breakfast, cleaning up, and cooking breakfast for a few more customers, Maggie catches Jack, sitting restlessly, on the verandah. He's staring out at the road, like he's waiting for someone.

"Who you waitin' for, Jack? Bertha?" she asks, as she steps on the verandah.

"It's her birthday, today. Got her a real nice present." he replies, still staring out at the road.

He's waiting for Forrest and Howard to come back, so he can take Bertha out, and give her the present he bought her. He loves her, very much, and can't hide his excitement to see her.

"What're you doin' here, then?" she asks, curiously, as she takes another step towards Jack.

He stands up; from the stairs he had previously been sitting on, and shrugs simply.

"Forrest told you to stay, didn't he?" Maggie guesses, and from Jack's silence, she knows that she's right. "Don't be a fool, Jack. It's Bertha's birthday. You go on, and see her." she adds.

"But-" he begins, to protest, but Maggie cuts him off.

"Go on." she tells him, but he doesn't move.

Jack says, "Forrest said…."

"You'll be back, before he is. He won't have to know. Now, go on." she tells him, with a smile on her face, as she watches the smile appear on his face.

"Thanks, Maggie." Jack says, grinning ear to ear, as he leans in and, quickly, kisses her on the cheek.

Then, he leaves her, as he runs towards where his car should be. He remembers, now, that Forrest and Howard went in his car.

Still with a smile, Maggie calls out, "Take my car."

"Thanks, Maggie!" he says, grinning wider, as he rushes towards her car.

Forrest and Howard are much quicker, than usual, and they don't face any trouble in selling their moonshine. Even though he'd spent most of the previous night, and this morning, drinking, Howard drives. Forrest sits next to him, and stays as silent as ever.

When they return to the station, he sees that Maggie's car is gone and wonders if she went into town, for some supplies. Howard takes care of the empty crates and boxes, and the few remaining jars, while Forrest heads inside.

"Jack?" he calls out, as he steps through the station doors.

Forrest comes to a complete stop as his eyes fall down to the floor beneath his feet – blood. A few spots of it spread across an area on the floor. He looks up to see Oliver, sitting casually at one of the tables in the room. Two empty bottles of moonshine rest, on the table, and another two which are both full stand, unopened. Beside Oliver sits Maggie – she's as emotionless and frozen as he has ever seen her. Her blouse is a little bloodied, and torn, but otherwise remains intact. Her bottom lip is swollen, and covered with a small amount of dried blood.

She looks like she tried to fight Oliver, Forrest guesses, from the blood on the floor. His eyes follow the trail, to Oliver's stomach, which he rests his right hand on. He's bleeding, and from the looks of his pale appearance, it isn't good.

"Ah, Mr Bondurant! What a pleasure it is, again. I must compliment you on this fine tasting liquor. And what a fine home you have." Oliver says, as he pulls himself up in the chair.

Forrest's hand falls, instinctively, to the brass knuckles in his pocket. His left hand, which had remained at his side, moves slowly, towards the back of his pants, where his gun rests. Forrest had noticed, as soon as he'd looked at Oliver, that he was holding the carving knife, with his left hand, to Maggie's lower stomach. He lifts his right hand, to the rifle on the table and holds it firmly and confidently in his hand.

"I don't want any trouble, Mr Bondurant. I'm hoping you won't give me any, 'cause if you did, I'm sure you'd regret it." Oliver comments, as he notices Forrest's hand move.

Forrest stands rigidly, as his eyes move from Oliver to Maggie. On her pale face he sees specks of sweat, and above her right eye, bordering on her hairline rests a cut that he cannot tell the severity of due to the blood that is smeared across it.

"What do you want, then?" Forrest asks Oliver, as calmly as he can.

It's taking all of his self-control not to kill Oliver, right now. He won't put Maggie's life at risk, not again.

"Forrest, I put the-" Howard begins, but comes to a stop at the sight of Forrest, frozen, in the middle of the room.

He steps inside, beside Forrest, and as his eyes fall upon Maggie, he too freezes, momentarily. His hand reaches for the gun, down the back of his pants, but stops as Forrest casts him a look – not yet.

Forrest can convey so much to Howard with a simple glance of his eyes, when he wants to. And it is a rare thing for Forrest to do since, usually; his eyes remain as guarded and emotionless as his face.

"You son of a bitch….." Howard mutters, angrily, as he tries, but fails, to hide his emotions.

He wants to split Oliver's skull, right now, or put a bullet through his head.

"Where's Jack?" Forrest asks.

"Place was empty when I got here. Maggie, and I….we've been having a good talk. Haven't we?" Oliver asks, as he briefly turns to look at Maggie.

She doesn't glance at him, but continues to hold Forrest's unwavering gaze.

"Go on," Oliver tells Maggie, as he gestures towards one of the unopened jars.

She hesitates, before she, slowly, lifts her shaking hands towards the jar. She loosens and removes the lid, after a few failed attempts at first. She lowers her hand back to where they rested, hanging down by her sides. She knows this won't last for much longer – Howard and Forrest will finish this up, they'll save her. But knowing that it is almost over doesn't console her, it doesn't calm her fears and it doesn't ease the pain that she is feeling in her stomach.

With each answer, that Oliver had told her was the wrong answer, he'd pressed the carving knife in, a little further, to her stomach. All of the feelings that she had been feeling had faded, and merged into one feeling – numbness. Her hands, her stomach, and her heart were numb.

"Uh….You let her go, an' you can have what's owed." Forrest tells him.

"No, thanks, Mr Bondurant…." Oliver says, with a small smile, before he presses the jar to his lips and takes a very large sip of moonshine.

Howard moves, to step forward, but stops as Oliver, who had caught glimpse of him, presses the carving knife, further in, on Maggie's stomach. She presses her lips together, tightly, to stop herself from crying out. She wants this to be over, so badly. She is beyond tired of this, and of Oliver. She longs to be back in bed, beside Forrest, under the moonlight, with their two bodies lying together as one.

She breaks her gaze, from Forrest, and lets her eyes fall to the empty jars on the table.

"You see, gentlemen, Maggie owes me more-she owes me more, than money. She took-took a life….from me…..She owes….a life..." Oliver stutters over a few words, as he places the jar down on to the table. "Didn't tell you about Thomas, did she? She's smart, like that. Sneaking her way in, to your homes..." He adds, with the tiniest smile on his face.

Maggie lifts her eyes, from the glass jar, to Forrest. And with one simple look, he knows what she is planning to do. She lifts her hand, from her side, and after gripping one of the empty jars with her hands, which are sweaty and shaking, she attempts to smash the jar over Oliver's head. He blocks it with his hand, causing the glass to shatter and pierce his skin. In one swift movement, he backhanded Maggie, with the hand that was not injured, throwing her, harshly, on to the floor.

Forrest moves, quicker than Howard, and with the brass knuckles on he beats Oliver. The first hit is aimed, at his throat. The next hit, his nose, and then his face. He steps back, however, after three hits. And while Oliver moans on the ground, Forrest moves to Maggie's side.

Howard stands over Oliver, watching him, while waiting for Forrest. He knows Forrest will want to take care of him.

"Maggie….." he says her name, softly, as he attempts to help her stand from the floor.

"I'm alright…..I'm OK." she repeats.

Forrest slides his right arm, underneath her legs, and supports her back with his left hand, as he picks her up, in his arms. She is frighteningly light, and as she looks up at him, she is almost unrecognizable to the confident woman who he found in the station not too long ago.

Forrest passes Howard, without a second glance, as he carries Maggie out to their car. He moves, so very quickly, towards the passenger side of the car, and once there he opens the door and lowers her, so very carefully, on to the seat, so that she's sitting up right. His right hand falls to the bloodied stain on her dress, where blood continues to flow from, and he rests it there, to keep the pressure on it.

"Maggie…." he says her name, again, with more panic, as she closes her eyes briefly. "You're alright." he tells her.

She doesn't respond to his words, or his touch, as her eyes stay closed. All that she can see is the night that she found Forrest. That night will forever haunt her memories. She'd entered the station, unaware of what lurked in the dark, and then they'd attacked her. She'd pulled herself together, as best she could, after she left. In some way, she considered it to be better that Forrest hadn't come back, then, or Jack or Howard. She couldn't have dealt with that. She couldn't have let them see her in that destroyed state. She'd pulled on her bloodied, torn clothes, and stumbled outside.

That's when she'd found him – in one of the darkest, painful moments that she's ever endured, she'd found Forrest in his own dark moment. Cut ear to ear, drowning in blood, and unresponsive. She'd cried, as she dragged his body to her car. She didn't cry for herself, she cried for him. It'd been so hard, so difficult to drag his body to the car. She'd pulled his shoulders, carefully, so she wouldn't hurt him any further.

Knowing the pain, and fear, he would've suffered pained Maggie, so badly. Once she'd pulled him inside the car, with trembling hands, she'd rested his head on her lap. Then, she'd held his neck together, with one hand, as she drove with the other.

A hand on Forrest's shoulder alerts him, and he spins around, with the brass knuckle still firmly on his hand – It's Jack. He stands behind his brother, as pale as Forrest has ever seen him, with his hands up in the air. Forrest doesn't have the time to ask Jack where he was, or to scold him for leaving Maggie.

"Take her to the hospital." Forrest orders Jack.

Jack moves, without a second of hesitation or question, and gets into the driver's seat of the car. The car is started, and halfway down the road, in seconds.

Forrest returns inside the station, with blood stained hands, to see Howard, who had previously been kicking Oliver, step back.

"She killed him…..She's a thief, and a murderer…." Oliver mutters, as Forrest drags his body off of the ground.

He can't stand, alone but Forrest doesn't plan to let him go. Not again. He'd made that mistake before. And now, he'd hurt Maggie.

Forrest continues to frown, at Oliver, who continues with a softer voice, "We had a boy….Thomas….And she killed him….She doesn't deserve….life…when she took his. Don't matter what you boys do to me….She's a killer…..That'll never fade away."

"Almost there, Maggie…." Jack tells her, as he casts a quick look at her, sideways, before looking back to the road.

It'd only be a few minutes now, before they were in town. She'd be alright, Jack convinced himself, and she had to be. He turns to, quickly, look at her again. Her eyes are open, but she hasn't spoken a word the entire time. Her hands rest on her lower stomach, as she tries to stop the bleeding. As she closes her eyes, briefly, all that she can see, all she can hear and all she can think about is Forrest.

She thinks of the first day she met him, their first handshake. Then, she thinks of the first night that they'd made love, and then their wedding day. She had found all that she would ever want or needed, in so little time, and she wouldn't give him up, now. She couldn't. He was a truly a part of her.

Forrest and Howard arrive at the hospital, to find Jack outside Maggie's, much later then Jack had expected them to. The sun had fallen from the sky, and had set over the hills, and night had come before the two of them had arrived.

Jack tells them, on their arrival, that the doctor was still in, with Maggie, and that he'd heard no word. Neither Howard nor Forrest said anything to Jack, as they waited, impatiently and anxiously, for the doctor.

Jack watches, silently, as Howard paces, slowly, and fidgets with his hands, and then his hat, and then, eventually, he lets out a deep sigh and announces that he's going outside. He can't be in here, again. Here's something about hospitals that drives him to the point of insanity. It's a place where people die, all the time. And you don't hold any control over it. You wait, and you wait for them, and you're helpless. He can't help but feel responsible for this – for the state that Maggie is now in. She could die, because of him. Because he didn't take care of Oliver the first time, or the second, he showed up. He should've protected Maggie, he knows that. He carries a heavy guilt for this, and always will.

Just as he holds the guilt for his brother's, being shot and almost killed. Forrest should have died, from the amount of bullets he received and the blood he'd lost. Just as he should have died when they'd cut his throat. He can't keep imagining his younger brother, lying in his own blood, dying, just as he watches men die around him in war. And he survived – he's not sure why.

Howard finds his way to the car, and after opening the door he pulls out a glass jar, off of the floor, and closes the door. He pulls off the lid, and drinks half of the contents before lowering the jar from his lips and letting out a small sigh. He'll head back inside, in a minute. He just needs a moment of silence, as the cold winds of the night brush against his skin. He just needs one moment.

Jack looks up, from his seat outside of Maggie's room, to see Forrest, still standing in the same rigid position as he was minutes ago. He hasn't moved his eyes from Maggie's door, and he hasn't said a word to anyone since he arrived.

Jack lets out a sigh, before he says, "Forrest…..I'm-"

"You should've been there." Forrest says, quickly, without even glancing at Jack.

Jack nods, quickly, as he says, with a shaky voice, "I'm sorry, Forrest….I'm sorry."

Forrest nods, and looks down at the floor, before finally raising his eyes to his brothers. It isn't Jack's fault, Forrest knows that. However, Forrest had told Jack, specifically, to stay at the station while they were gone.

"I'm real sorry….." Jack repeats, again, as he stands from the seat.

Forrest holds his tongue, and although he is tempted to slap Jack, for leaving, he doesn't. His eyes move to Maggie's door, which has just opened. Outside, steps a doctor who tells Jack and Forrest that the cut she had received was deeper than they had first assumed, however it was not life threatening. He then tells them that they stitched her stomach, and bandages her wounds, and left her to rest because she had lost a lot of blood, and it was what she needed.

Jack thanks the doctor, several times, before he leaves to tend to other patients. Howard returns, now, smelling more of liquor than before. He says nothing as he watches Forrest open the door to Maggie's room, step inside, and close it behind him.

"She….alright?" Howard asks, as he removes his hat.

Jack nods, "Doctor said she'll be good…..Forrest wants us to head, back home…close up…."

Forrest stands, silently and still, a few feet from the doorway as his eyes rest on Maggie. She's lying in bed, in a short-sleeved, white nightgown. A small lamp flickers on her bedside table lights up her pale, soft face. Her hands rest by her side, as she breathes softly, in and out.

Forrest doesn't wake Maggie, as he steps towards the empty chair in the corner of the room. As he looks over the room, he's almost certain that this was the same room he'd spent those nights in, after they'd cut his throat. It probably is.

His eyes lift from the pale bruises that still rest on her wrist, to her slightly swollen bottom lip and the bruise forming on her left cheek, and then to the bandage, that underneath rests a cut, on her forehead. He takes his time, on each of these injuries, taking each of them in slowly. Perhaps, it is because he wants to remember the pain that he caused her, so he can never cause her any amount of pain again. Or, perhaps, it is because he is avoiding looking at her most obvious injury – her stomach. His hands are still scarred with the remains of her blood – it's dried, over the hand that had rested on her stomach in an attempt to stop the blood.

Forrest doesn't sleep that night, or the morning that comes, slowly. He watches Maggie, as she rests, peacefully and undisturbed, unharmed, in the single hospital bed. She doesn't stir, or wake, at all that night, or morning. He watches her, silently, for hours, as the light in the room shifts, changes and moves. He won't leave her side, again. He won't let her feel any harm, or pain, again. He'll stay with her, always. He's decided that when she wakes, and he's sure she's alright, the next time she sleeps, he'll go back to the station and pack a bag of her things. He'll only be returning there for her things, and to check on things occasionally. He'll be sleeping in this wooden chair until she's good enough to go home. He'll stay by her side, every night, until then and every day and night after.

**A/N: Firstly, I wanted to thank everyone who reads this story. It really means so much to know that someone is getting enjoyment from my story. I hope you're still enjoying it, and I hope you like where the story is going. I also hope I'm portraying the people and events correctly. Sorry for any grammatical errors I may have missed. PM me if you find any, thank you!**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my story, favorited it or followed the story :) **

**Anyway, thank you very much and I hope you enjoy.**

**Also, I wanted to say that my thoughts and prayers are with all of you, in the US, who have been affected by Sandy. Xx**


	7. And it's breaking over me

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I own only the O/C characters and ideas created of this story.**

* * *

The afternoon sun has set, and fallen completely from the sky, when Forrest finds Howard, standing in the doorway of Maggie's hospital room. Howard stands, a little shakily and on an edge, silent and still in the doorway. Forrest takes in each detail of Howard's disheveled appearance – from his bloodshot eyes, messy hair and slightly shaking hands, before he stands from the hospital chair he spent the last night and most of the day in.

Maggie had stirred, once or twice in her dreaming state, but had remained sleeping and still for the night, and the day that followed it.

The doctor, who Forrest wasn't particularly fond of, due to his condescending tone and the way he spoke down to Forrest, had told him that sleep was good, for Maggie, and she would recover. It was clear, in the doctor's voice, that he didn't think that a woman like Maggie should be involved with any of the Bondurant brothers, _especially_ Forrest.

"What're you doin', Howard?" Forrest asks, as he moves towards the door.

His body still aches, slightly, as it is still healing, but he hasn't had time to focus on the pain. With a slight frown on his features, Forrest ushers Howard out of Maggie's room, and he follows his brother out into the hallway. He closes the door, behind him, slightly – leaving the tiniest gap, so if Maggie wakes he will know, and he will be there, by her side.

"How's Maggie doin'?" Howard asks, avoiding Forrest's question, as he takes a step backwards and removes his hat from his head.

Forrest keeps his eyes on his brother as he says, "Uh….She's alright. What're you doin' here, Howard?"

"Jus' checkin' on her…" Howard mutters, in response, as he lowers his eyes to the floor.

Truthfully, Howard's visiting because he feels, somewhat, guilty for Maggie's current situation. He feels that he could've protected her, better. He should have protected her better. He could have been saved from the fear and pain that will haunt her, from now 'till her last day.

Howard knows, all too well, about fear, and pain, and loss. He doesn't talk about it, ever – he never has and swears he never will. He also swears he will never think about it, every night before he swallows bottle after bottle of liquor, he tells himself he won't think about it. But he does. The thoughts of the men, who died around him, are never too far away once he takes a mouthful of moonshine. He can't stop thinking of them.

"Maggie's gonna be alright, Howard." Forrest says, with a low voice, as he keeps his eyes on his brother. "Howard, uh….we're gonna be stoppin', again, for a while." he adds.

For now, Forrest things it best that they stop their production. Just for now – just until Maggie is better.

Howard nods, slowly, and as he continues to move the hat around in his hands, he says, "It ain't your fault, Forrest. I mean – it ain't our fault…It's-"

Forrest watches Howard with a silent curiosity for a moment as he wonders why Howard is carrying the guilt for this. This isn't Howard's fault, or Jack's – despite Forrest's clear words to Jack, to remain at the station. And it sure as hell isn't Maggie's fault.

Forrest considers it to be, mostly, _his_ fault. She is his wife, and he is her husband, and they will be married 'till death do they part – he vowed that. And, because Forrest was not around, he didn't protect her soon enough or nearly well enough, she almost could've died.

Forrest looks up at Howard, who is already watching him as he waits for Forrest's answer.

He clears his throat, before he says, "Uh….Mmm… Ain't anyone's fault but that son of a bitch. An' he won't be causing any more trouble. Maggie's gonna be alright."

Howard nods, at Forrest's words, and lifts his blood-shot eyes to meet Forrest's. He hasn't slept in a while, Forrest observes by Howard's appearance. Forrest has always been able to understand both Howard and Jack, better than they have ever been able to understand him.

Forrest knows that Howard carries guilt, from the war, and from their parents death – although, there was nothing he could do in either situation, to save lives, he still carries the guilt around him. It not only weighs him down, it leads him into desperate times which call for desperate measures – those desperate measures are the alcohol.

Forrest knows that it is not his place to tell Howard how much he should and shouldn't drink. They're brothers, and Forrest cares greatly for both of his brothers, but Howard has been through something that some men don't make it through, alive, and as far as Forrest is concerned, Howard can drink as much as he wants.

"Uh….You go on home, now, Howard. I'll be home soon." Forrest tells him, with a lower voice.

Howard nods, very slowly, and says no other words, but rather nods at Forrest, before he turns, and heads on his way home.

One day has passed, without Maggie at the station, and it already doesn't feel like home, to Howard or Jack, but mainly Howard. Howard is so used to getting up, every morning, to seeing Maggie, in the kitchen, with a smile on her face and life in her eyes. He likes having her around. She's good company. It's not that he doesn't consider his brothers to be good company, because they are, but at times Jack can be so damn foolish that Howard can't help but to tease him and Forrest isn't a man of many words.

If Howard was to say that Maggie was like any of the three brothers, he wouldn't say just one – she has Jack's enthusiasm for life, Forrest's silent but strong love for those she considers family, and in Maggie, Howard can see her strength to continue on, even in the harder times of life.

Forrest returns to Maggie's room, and closes the door as quietly as is possible, before retaking his seat on the wooden chair, not far from her bedside. He watches her, silently – despite taking in each and every detail of her injuries, each time he looks upon them, the same guilt falls onto him. They are reminders of how close he came to losing Maggie – she could have died.

She didn't die, though. He continues to remind himself that through the day, and the night. Especially when, he sits in that wooden chair, he closes his eyes. He isn't asleep, when he thinks of her and what she's been through, but he isn't entirely awake. He finds himself thinking of Maggie, and what his life would be like without her. And he doesn't like the thought, at all, so he tries not to let himself think about it much.

But, there are some things that a man, no matter how hard he tries, can't forget. There are things that'll follow a man around, to his grave, and even then they might haunt him well into his death. He considers what Maggie's life might have been like, if he had died when they'd cut his throat, or at the shoot-out. He wonders, sometimes, if her life might have been better.

He curses himself for thinking about a life without her, but the doctor who looks down at Forrest, and looks ill at the idea of Forrest occupying the hospital room with Maggie, had put the thoughts into his head. A respectable woman, the doctor had called her. He'd asked what a respectable woman had done to get herself into this sort of trouble. And then, he'd looked up at Forrest. The doctor had assumed it had something to do with the Bondurant brothers, but he didn't say another word about it after the look he'd received, from Forrest.

Forrest had considered if her life may have been better, without him, but he can't let himself think about it, too much, because he might believe it and let it go. And he can't let her go. Despite how selfish that might sound – even if she may have been better without him, he could never let her go.

Forrest thinks of a lot of other things, as he sits, watching Maggie sleeping peacefully and without pain. He isn't mad at Jack because Forrest knows he shouldn't have left Maggie. He isn't mad at Jack because he stood up when Maggie was injured, and her stomach was cut open, Jack stood up and drove her into town. He drove as fast as was possible, and he took care of her. And for that, Forrest was proud of his brother.

He lifts his eyes from his hands to Maggie, who is lying on her back, with her hands by her side, breathing softly, in and out. The rising and falling of her chest gives him reassurance that she is still with him. Even now, as she lies before him, free of blood, Forrest can still see it. He can still see the blood, which had soaked her dress and trickled down both of their hands.

He hasn't slept at all – he can't. With his eyes open, he can still see, clearly, like a movie playing before his eyes, _her_. He sees Maggie, sitting at the kitchen table, shaking terribly and bleeding slightly. He can still picture her, being backhanded by that filth. He can still hear Oliver's false words, his talk of Maggie being a thief and a killer, in his ears. That isn't his Maggie. He knows her.

What Forrest relives the most, an image that he cannot remove from his mind, is when he carried a bleeding, weak Maggie out to the car - she'd been frightened, and unwell, as he'd placed her down on the passenger seat. There was so much blood; it was her blood. And he'd tried, desperately, to help her. His hands, which had trembled ever so slightly, had rested against her stomach, in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. In that moment, he had gained a glimpse of what it would have been like, for Maggie, to find him, that night after they had cut his throat.

Forrest would always carry the guilt of that night, and the previous night. He would never, for as long as he lived, be able to shake that guilt, or ease the weight. He couldn't begin to understand how truly horrible, and painful, it must have been for her, to find him, cut ear to ear in the snow, bleeding to death. He was close to death, that night, he knew that. He can't begin to know what she felt, as she had made her way, frightened, from the station after what they had done to her.

Forrest had carried the most guilt and pain over what they had done to her. The very thought of what those men had done to her – the hurt, and the pain that they caused her and the fear that they had instilled in her. What was the hardest to forget, it was something he would never forget for as long as he lived, was that she had come back _for_ him. Maggie had returned, that night, _for_ Forrest. And, he had only been a few feet away as those monsters had torn at her clothes, and her hurt, and put her through something horrible. He'd been so close to her, yet he had been so far away. He couldn't help her then, just as he didn't help her know. He should have helped her – and he'll never forgive himself for that.

Forrest had known from their first handshake that he had wanted to marry Maggie Beauford. There was something special about her, it was something he had never seen or felt before, and even now he wasn't entirely sure what it was. She had a good heart – he could tell that, right from the beginning. She didn't care what others thought of her, and her involvement with the Bondurant brothers, and that was something that had caught his eye.

The first night that they had spent together had deepened his feelings for her. He didn't want another, before her or after her, not in the way that he had wanted to be with her. They didn't need words, sometimes they only needed a simple glance – and that was enough. That was how he knew that they were, in a way he never thought was possible, meant for each other.

Forrest had never believed, before Maggie, that two people could be meant for the other. The idea of a love so powerful, and consuming, was just as foolish, to Forrest, as the idea of two people being meant for the other.

Forrest's eyes, which he didn't realize were closed, open at the sound of movement in the room. He sets his gaze down on to Maggie – her blue eyes, which stand out even more on her pale, paler than usual, complexion, meets Forrest's unreadable, as always, eyes.

"I'm-" she stops, to clear her extremely dry throat, before continuing with a softer voice. "I'm sorry….Didn't mean to wake you," she says, weakly.

Her skin is as pale as he's ever seen it, and her eyes are dull, and move very slowly towards Forrest.

"You didn't." he replies, after a long moment of silent hesitation. "How're you feelin'?" he asks, as he stands, slowly, from the chair he had spent hours on. He didn't mind, though, because he was with her.

"Mmm…." she mutters, as she closes her eyes, briefly. "I'm alright…..How long…."

"One day," Forrest answers, as he takes another step towards her bed.

Maggie feels a small amount of pain, in her stomach, but sees no need to complain of it or confirm Forrest's suspicions or fears. Forrest, and his brothers, have all been through much worse than a cut like this. Maggie sees no need to complain of something as minor as that, and she sees no reason to make Forrest worry about her. She will be fine, because she always is.

Maggie can still hear her mama's words in her ear, when they'd take shelter in Maggie's bedroom. They'd sit, huddled together, on her small, single bed, and her mother would run her fingers through Maggie's long, orange hair. This was their routine, for when Maggie's father would come home in a drunken rage, and beat anything that his hands could find. They'd lock the door to Maggie's room, and her mama would, at first, sing, so very softly, so that only the two of them would hear.

She'd run her fingers through Maggie's hair, to calm her down, and then she would say, each and every time, "We'll be fine, we always are. We're Beauford women. We're strong, we're fighters. Never forget that."

Beauford was her mama's maiden name. She hadn't wanted anything from her father, after she was old enough to leave. She packed a suitcase, in a similar way she had done with Oliver, and had left at night, without looking back. She couldn't look back, on her father. It was too painful. So, instead, she looks back, with fondness, on her; her beautiful, strong, warm, loving mother who, sometimes, she can still see.

She can still see it, as clear as day - the two of them, huddled together, holding each other. She can still feel her mother's warm hands, and her soft whispers in Maggie's ear. A voice, not belonging to her mother's, interrupts Maggie's thoughts of her mother – she hears Forrest's soft, voice calling out her name.

"Maggie?" he says, a little louder this time.

The image of her beautiful mother, with her long, wavy orange curls and bright blue eyes, falters before disappearing from her eyes completely. An image of Forrest, sitting on Maggie's bedside, beside her, appears before her.

Forrest is watching her with an, intense look, of worry, and concern. She hadn't responded to his earlier questions, and when he'd called out her name, she hadn't answered. She focuses her eyes on the fabric of the blanket that is covering her body, as each word that passes his lips rings through the air.

"Uh….Mmm…I'm gonna get the doctor…" Forrest tells Maggie, as he stands, so very slowly, from the side of her bed.

"No, don't – no need for that, Forrest. I'm alright." she tells him, still with a soft voice, as she lifts her eyes, very slowly, to meet his.

"Mmm…." he makes a low, disapproving, grunting noise, but says nothing else as he returns to the spot that he had previously sat on, at the side of her bed.

"You look tired, Forrest." Maggie comments, as she keeps her eyes on him.

He meets her gaze, eventually, but his eyes, and his emotions, are well hidden. She cannot tell, on the surface, what he is thinking or what he is feeling, right now. What worries her the most, however, is what Oliver would have told Forrest. He would have lied, surely, in an attempt to manipulate Forrest for the money that he believed that he was owed.

As she watches Forrest, she wonders, and worries, what Forrest thinks of her. She panics, slightly, as to whether he will still want to be married to her, if he has learned what she did. It is the guilt that heavily weighs her down, which leads her to feeling so exhausted, at times. She will _always_ carry the guilt of that day. Just as she will always carry the guilt of the night that Forrest's throat had been cut.

"Uh…Mmm…." he grunts, in response.

Forrest isn't tired. He didn't sleep much, only rested his eyes, but some nights he doesn't sleep at all, and he isn't tired the next mornings.

There were, some nights before and even now, when Forrest will wander upstairs, a little drunk, and after turning out the light, he will find himself outside of Maggie's door. He'll stand there, watching her, silently. He finds it calming, to see her. He counts himself truly lucky, as he watches her sleeping – lucky to have met her, to have fallen for her, to have married her. Sometimes, Forrest will be standing there for so long, he'll fall asleep, standing upright, against the door, or the wall.

Forrest's eyes fall down to Maggie's stomach, to where he knows the bandages are, and all he can see is the blood. It's all he's been seeing lately. And he doesn't want to see it, not anymore, and especially not on Maggie. Any idea of her being hurt, and bleeding, or in pain, hurts him. He only wants her to be safe, and peaceful, and painless.

He feels, in a way, that he has failed to protect her. It won't happen again, he knows that. He can't let her hurt again, or feel pain, because he hates the very idea that she could be feeling any amount of pain, no matter how big or small. He'd take all of the pain, from her, just so she wouldn't have to feel a thing.

"Oliver said…." Forrest begins, as his eyes move up, to meet Maggie's.

She presses her lips together, a nervous twitch he's noticed a few times, as she waits for Forrest to continue. Oliver could have said a lot of things, and it's very likely that many of those things were far from the truth. But it is what Forrest believes, and what Forrest thinks of those things, that frightens Maggie.

Her voice is soft, but not shaky, as she replies, "Oliver doesn't speak the truth, Forrest. He's a liar."

"Uh….He was talkin' 'bout your son." Forrest says each word so very slowly and with no signs of emotion.

Forrest hadn't believed any of Oliver's words – except for when he mentioned his son. He said his name was Thomas and that Maggie had left him behind and run off, to Franklin, for a chance at a new life. Now, Forrest wasn't entirely sure whether he believed Oliver or not – he was a drunken, lying, gambling man, who had, in Maggie's absence, bragged to Howard and Forrest how he beat his girls around – mainly Maggie.

Oliver had said, with a twitch of a smile, that it was Maggie's silence, at times, that drove him insane. It was her silence, in their arguments, which told Oliver that she thought she was better off than him. Maggie had never thought that, of Oliver, there was a time when she loved him. That time was not now, and there would never be a time again when she'd ever feel anything remotely close to love for a man who had only caused her agony and grief. He'd promised her love and a life filled with happiness, but had given her the opposite.

These words, muttered by Forrest about her son, catch Maggie completely off guard – Forrest knows. He doesn't, from his slightly angered or troubled appearance, seem to know the whole truth, though, just fragments of it, and the lies that Oliver would have strung together in an attempt to get the money, he falsely believed that he was owed.

Her chest begins to lift, and fall, much faster now, at the mention of her boy. She says, softly, "I didn't…"

"Didn't think I'd find out, you have a son?" he asks, with a voice that fails, slightly, at maintaining the, usually, emotionless tone.

Maggie can hear the emotion, ringing off every letter that passes his lips. She kept this from him because she couldn't face it herself, not entirely. She wasn't ready to face it. She wasn't ready to talk about it. He's angry with her, she can hear it in his voice, and can just make it out in his eyes. He's angry that she's kept something this big, from him. She didn't keep it from him because she didn't want to tell him, she kept it from him because she can't speak about it. She can't remember it. She can't allow herself to feel those things, again.

"No, Forrest, please don't do this." she says, softly, with pleading eyes.

She is so very tired. She's tired from running, and from remembering, and from _always_ carrying the guilt, the fear and the pain. She wants it to stop. She would have told Forrest, eventually, she tells herself. Although, she's not entirely sure she would of. It's hard, to talk about him. To remember him – because remembering comes hand in hand with the guilt, that doesn't ease up or falter, it will never go away completely.

"Didn't think that, uh….it was something you should tell your husband?" he questions, still with a deep frown on his features.

It's different this time, though. He won't look at her. He his eyes stay on the chain, hanging from her neck – the chain that her wedding ring hangs from.

"You ain't keepin' nothin' from me, then, are you Forrest?" she asks, quickly, as s1he very slowly pulls herself up, so slightly, in bed, so that she's sitting rather than lying down.

With a slight shake of his head, Forrest grunts, lowly, in response.

Maggie continues, "You ain't keepin', from me and Jack; that you started business up, again?"

Forrest's eyes lift up, from the chain around Maggie's neck, to her eyes. He hides guilt, in his eyes; guilt because he should have been there, instead of selling damn moonshine. He means to ask her how she found out about that. His explanation for not telling her is he couldn't risk hers or Jack's safety, again. And that the business would run smoother if less people knew about it. But, Forrest doesn't say anything. He stays silent, as Maggie continues watching him.

"I ain't stupid, Forrest." she tells him, a little more softly now.

Maggie doesn't want to be telling Forrest what he should, and shouldn't, do with his life – but she won't lose him. She's come too close, too many times for her liking, and she can't go through it again. Those last times were unbearable, to say the least.

"I won't watch it again, Forrest." she tells him, honestly, as she shakes her head slightly. A small, shaky breath of air passes her lips, before she continues, "I won't watch you almost die, again. You're gettin' back into somethin' that almost killed you, and your brothers. An' I won't bury any of you….I can't – you kept this- you hid this-"

"It ain't like I'm hiding a child, from you, Maggie." Forrest mutters, lowly, in response.

Maggie, who has suddenly become fed up, and more upset, by Forrest's reaction, snaps. Her voice is a little louder, and the pain and anger in her voice is clear in Forrest's ears, as she says, "Get out."

Forrest watches Maggie, still with a creased forehead, as he does not move by her side. His eyes do not falter from hers, and he doesn't speak a word, as he continues to watch her. He won't leave her. She isn't well.

"I'm tired, Forrest." she tells him, with a painfully, shaky voice.

"So sleep." he says, still unmoving from his position beside her.

Her eyes do not falter from his, and despite her incredibly shaky voice, which gives away her true feelings, she is careful to conceal her emotions, on her face, from him.

"Get out, Forrest. Leave, please." Maggie says, as she finds it hard to continue up with holding in everything – the emotions, the pain, and the memories.

"Maggie…." he says, hoarsely, after coughing, once, to clear his throat.

She shakes her head, so very slowly, as she, simply, says, "Please, get out, Forrest."

He has to leave, now, because she's not entirely sure how long she can hold up her false appearance. She can feel it, her mask, shattering. She won't let him see her crumble; she can't let him see that again.

Forrest's eyes do not falter from Maggie's, and he does not move from his position on her bed, as he tells her, "I ain't leavin'."

Still, shaking her head, slightly, she says, "Get out, Forrest, an' go home. Please…."

When Forrest doesn't move, and Maggie feels herself slipping back into how she was, not too long ago, she tells him, loudly, "_Go_ home."

Forrest's eyes flicker, from Maggie's, very slowly, to the blankets that cover her. She's not well, and he doesn't want to make her angry by staying – he doesn't understand why she is as angry, as she is. He has questions, for her – she's hiding a child, from him, a son. Wherever that boy is now, he's going to need a mother, since his father won't be coming home. He only wants to help her.

A low, inaudible, grunting sound passes through his lips, as he stands from the bed without looking at Maggie.

"Uh..." he begins, as his eyes move to his hat, which is rested on a table near the chair he had spent hours, upon hours, sitting on.

Forrest knows that he hasn't been told the entire story, he acknowledges that, but as husband and wife, he believed that he should have a right to know these things. She's exhausted, and not healed, she needs to rest – and if she needs to rest, without him in the room, for now, he will leave. But he won't be leaving the hospital, not without her. He will wait outside her room, for the night, and they'll face things in the morning.

"Get some rest, now." he tells her, with a soft voice, as he moves towards the door, with his hat, that he had picked up off the table it had previously rested on.

He turns to face her, for one last glance – she doesn't, as he had expected her to, avoid his gaze. She meets his gaze with eyes, and an expression, that is are as unreadable as they have ever been.

Forrest doesn't want to leave her. And even though he will be right outside her door, it's different. He won't be able to watch over her, in the night, to ensure that she is continuing to breath. He'll stand outside her room, waiting for her to want him to come back inside.

Maggie waits until Forrest is gone, from the room, and the wooden door is completely closed before she allows the emotions, that were bubbling at the surface and threatening to break through, come through. She moves her legs, to the side of the bed, and rests her bare feet on the cold floor – the coolness soothes her, as she closes her eyes.

A sob, which is almost inaudible, passes Maggie's lips, as she lowers her head, forward. Her left hand, which she cannot control from shaking, reaches up to her trembling lip – an attempt to stop it. Another, louder, sob passes through her lips, and after the realization that Forrest, more than likely, heard that, she covers her mouth, with both shaking hands. Her soft, warm tears, roll down onto her cheeks, hit her hands, and slide down them, slowly. She can't contain it. She can't control it. Her entire body is, shaking, trembling, and the fear that Forrest, or a doctor, could walk in at any moment makes Maggie want to stop this – to pull herself together but she can't.

She can't stop herself from sobbing, softly, for the son that she lost. She cries because the man, who had, for a very long time, caused her so much pain, sadness and grief, had, as he had always wanted to, caused her further pain. By leaving Chicago, she'd truly believed she'd be safe here – she'd be safe from Oliver. But she wasn't safe. He had found her, and he had caused her pain by bringing up the memories.

She'd always carried the guilt, for the death of her son. He was a beautiful boy. If she closes her eyes, tightly enough, she can still see him – on his fourth birthday; dressed in a light blue shirt, his favorite color, and a pair of brown slacks. He had orange hair, so bright and curly, like his grandmothers. And his eyes – they were the bluest that she had ever seen.

Sometimes, when she would look in her reflection, she could see his eyes, in hers. They were a different shade, a much lighter blue, though.

She would never be rid of this guilt, she knew that but she could never accept it. There was nothing that she could do, nothing anyone could do, to lift the guilt from her shoulders. It weighs, and crushes, her down. Some days, she was completely consumed and confined by her guilt. Those days were becoming more frequent, as she found herself dreaming of him more often than usual.

She found herself, on many, many sleepless nights, thinking of Thomas. She knew tonight, as she held her head in her hands and as her body heaved in and out, shaking and trembling from the tears that she had held in for so very long, that she would not sleep. She couldn't sleep, not tonight.


	8. A thousand miles down to the sea bed

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I own only the O/C characters and ideas created of this story.**

* * *

Forrest had stood, silent and still, outside the door to Maggie's room at the hospital the door for hours. He had considered, several times, stepping through the door, moving silently towards the empty wooden chair, and staying there while she slept. If he was silent, she would not know he had been in the room, watching over her, ensuring that she was not ill.

He had come so close to entering her bedroom; his right hand had moved slowly, and cautiously, until it rested on the door knob. But, he didn't push it open, he couldn't. If she wasn't sleeping, she would ask him to leave again and he wouldn't be able to abide by her wishes and leave, again.

It didn't matter if she was sleeping or if she wasn't – he would want to stay with her either way. But, Maggie didn't want him there, not tonight. She had wanted to be alone, to rest, and Forrest would let her be, tonight. But, just because he was following her wishes didn't mean that Forrest liked them. He didn't like them in the least. He wanted to be beside her if she woke, frightened or ill.

For now, standing silently outside of her door, listening carefully for any indication if she was ill or frightened, would have to do.

The idea of Maggie having a son didn't bother Forrest in the least. It didn't make him think any less of her, and it didn't cause him to look at her any differently than he had before. It had made him slightly angry, that was all. He hadn't meant to make Maggie upset, by mentioning her son, he'd only wanted answers. Instead of answers, he'd received silence.

Forrest had been angry because he had to find out from that bastard, Oliver, that Maggie had a child. It shouldn't have been that way. She should have been honest with him. Forrest would, when he thought it was something that was absolutely necessary for Maggie to know, be honest with her. She is his wife, and he is her husband, and she should have been the one to tell him.

He didn't consider himself to be a good person, in comparison to Maggie, whom he knew had a good heart. His heart was blackened with the stains of all that he had done in his life. All of the bad things, he had done – and he'd known that they were bad things, while he was doing him, the thought didn't bother him though. That was before. Now, it was different. Now, Forrest wanted to seek forgiveness, for all he had done, from Maggie. He had done so many things, without hesitation or a second of remorse, which other men wouldn't or couldn't bring themselves to do. Forrest wasn't like the other men, though. He did what was necessary. He did whatever was needed to be done to protect his family. He would always do whatever was needed to be done, for his family.

Forrest considered Maggie to be part of his family now, and he would always protect her. He hadn't this time, though. He hadn't protected her from Oliver. But, Oliver would never lay a hand on her again. He had done what was necessary to ensure that his family was, and remained, safe.

The doctor had come by, early that morning, to check in on Maggie. He had eyed Forrest off, with suspicion, before he stepped through the doorway of Maggie's room and closed the door behind him. Forrest had considered, again, entering the room, and just as he was about to, the doctor had stepped out of the room.

When he caught sight of Forrest, standing in the hallway in his pale grey cardigan, brown slacks, and hat in hand, he'd stepped towards him, with slight caution, before he'd said, "Miss Beauford is much better, this morning. She shall be able to leave today."

Forrest didn't much like hearing the doctor say those words, _Miss Beauford_. The way the doctor said it – he was clearly emphasizing that she was Miss Beauford, and not a Bondurant. But, the doctor was very wrong there. She was Mrs. Maggie Bondurant now.

Forrest had grunted, lowly, at the doctor, finding that he, now that Maggie was going to be fine, had no reason to continue to be pleasant towards the man who couldn't hide his disbelief and disgust at the idea of a lady such as Maggie Beauford being tied to any of the Bondurant brothers, particularly Forrest Bondurant.

He could see it in the doctor's eyes, each time that he looked at Forrest he wasn't really looking at him as an equal, but rather looking down on him. He could hear it in the doctor's voice in every word that passed his pursed lips.

Forrest had stepped past the doctor, and moved, slowly, towards Maggie's room. He was still slow on his feet, because he was still healing, and it frustrated him that he couldn't move as fast, or with as much ease, as he used to. In time, he would be back to how he was before the shoot-out. That time couldn't come soon enough to Forrest. He was still in pain, because his wounds were healing, slowly. He hadn't complained about the pain, though, and he hadn't mentioned it, to anyone, because it seemed like something that he was better of keeping to himself, because telling Howard he was in pain would only deepen his brother's guilt, telling Jack would make him worry, even more, and telling Maggie would put her in pain. It was better, this way. He didn't need to tell anyone.

Forrest finds Maggie standing at the end of her un-made bed. She stands, with her back towards him, and her right hand resting, tightly, on the rail at the end of the bed. She's using the rail to hold herself up, to steady herself. The wound hasn't left her too weak, but she finds that with her sleepless night, and the painful reminders of her son, have left her with a feeling similar to exhaustion. She wants to sleep, she needs to sleep, but she can't.

Maggie stands in silence, gripping onto the rail, for a moment. Her eyes stay closed, and her lips stay pressed together, as she searches for the strength to continue on without the constant, haunting, painful thoughts of Thomas. Her thoughts of Thomas, and of Forrest, are stopped as Maggie turns to face Forrest – standing in the doorway.

She's dressed in a long sleeved, red top, and a pair of light brown slacks. Her hair has been brushed, but remains as flat and as lifeless as her eyes. A new, clean, bandage rests on her forehead, and the dark purple and light brown bruise, on Maggie's cheek, is worse than Forrest remembers it being last night. Her lip is only slightly swollen, now. Forrest can tell she didn't sleep at all last night.

Forest looks slightly tired but Maggie isn't sure if he'd slept. She isn't sure if he went home. He probably stayed here, she thinks. Maggie feels slightly guilty, that she asked him to leave her be. She needed to be alone. She couldn't let Forrest watch her fall apart, again. And she couldn't talk to him about Thomas, not yet. She couldn't allow herself to talk about Thomas yet, because if she did she was almost sure that she would break completely.

Forrest stays silent, and expressionless, as he watches her standing by her bed. His eyes fall, briefly, to her open suitcase on the bed.

"What're you doin' up?" he asks, speaking, finally, with a low, almost inaudible voice.

Maggie hesitates to answer, as she continues to hold Forrest's gaze. He steps towards her, like he might do something about the suitcase on the bed. Maggie turns away from Forrest, back to the suitcase on her bed, and shuts it, closing the latches as she does. Maggie had been told by the doctor that she would be fine. She just needed to rest, and she surely wasn't getting any rest here. She needed to go home. She would be better once she was home.

"Goin' home," Maggie tells Forrest, with a soft voice that holds no anger.

Forrest isn't quite sure what Maggie is feeling, or thinking, as she remains as expressionless and emotionless as he has ever seen her. Despite this, she still speaks to him with a soft tone.

He isn't sure what he should say to Maggie, next. She isn't quite sure what to say next either, so she doesn't speak. Instead she turns, slowly, to look at Forrest, who is, now, only a few feet away from her. His eyes had rested on the floor, but as she had turned to look at him, he'd lifted them to her.

"Uhh…." he mutters, as he steps towards the bed. "I'll take that." he says, before he lifts the suitcase from the bed.

She seems weak, to him. Not well enough to be going home. He won't argue with her, though, about leaving the hospital. He can still take care of her at home.

It wasn't too long ago that Forrest was in a room very similar to this one. It wasn't too long ago when Maggie was the one visiting him. She had been the one watching him with concern, and worry, and now he was watching her that way. He didn't like seeing Maggie in any pain. He'd rather be the one to feel any and all of her pain, in return for her being free of any pain.

He thought of their wedding day, as they walked down from the hospital, outside, and towards Maggie's parked car. When Forrest had gotten out of the hospital, they had gotten married that day. It had been one of the happiest days of his life.

It was different, now, as they reached the car. This day was very different from that day. There was a silence between them that Forrest didn't know how to fill. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the right words, and the wrong words would get stuck in his throat and he wouldn't say them.

Maggie remained as quiet as she had ever been, on the ride back to the station. She had, for a while, stared, silently, at the seat that she sat on.

The blood hadn't faded from the seat of their car, the car he had rested Maggie on, with her stomach cut open and bleeding, so Forrest had wanted to bring Maggie's – he hadn't wanted her to see the stains of blood and be reminded of what Oliver had done.

He hadn't wanted Maggie to be reminded of what Oliver had done. But, Maggie was still reminded of what had happened. She couldn't escape it. The few, dry, spots of blood spread across the car seat, that still, after all this time have not faded, remind both Maggie and Forrest of what they were both trying to forget, or pretend they had forgotten.

The blood on the seat not only reminds Maggie and Forrest of what Oliver had done, but what those men had done to Forrest, and what they had done to Maggie.

They were both so broken. That was clear to both of them .The two of them were scarred and damaged, but they weren't damaged beyond repair, because they could repair each other. They were two broken people who could help each other; they could mend the other and save the other. They could, in time, help each other, fix each other, and heal each other.

That time wasn't now, though, that was clear to Forrest, as he'd cast a few side glances at the still and silent Maggie. She hadn't spoken a word on the trip home. Maggie had wanted to speak to Forrest, but she was still tired, and she'd known that if she had spoken, then, they would end up speaking about something that she could talk about, not yet.

Upon reaching the station, Maggie moves slowly, out of the car, and for a brief second, she holds onto the car door, as she gains her footing on the ground. She swallows in a deep breath of air, before she moves, slowly, towards the house.

Forrest was already at Maggie's side, before she had set her feet down on the ground. He'd closed the door behind her, taken her suitcase, and moved so he was standing beside her.

He moves beside her, towards the house, and once they are up the stairs, Forrest holds open one of the front doors for Maggie. She thanks him, silently, with a small smile, and steps through the door. Once inside, Maggie's gaze drops, almost against her will, towards where she remembers the blood had stained the floor, when she'd tried to break free of Oliver.

As she stares down at the floor, clean of blood, beneath her feet, she can almost see Oliver a few feet away from her – it's as if she's watching the scene unfold before her eyes.

Maggie had, once catching sight of Oliver, grabbed the carving knife, from the bench, and in the scuffle that had followed, Maggie had cut Oliver's stomach. He had overpowered her, though, and with his right hand, he'd harshly hit her, knocking her down to the ground – that was how she had sustained the cut to her forehead, and her swollen lip.

Then, Oliver had grabbed her, tightly, by her wrists, and pulled her towards him….Maggie didn't want to think about it, any longer. She couldn't allow herself to think about him.

As Maggie lifts her eyes, from the floor, she finds that Forrest is standing next to her, silent, but watching her intently with an expression on his face that Maggie doesn't understand entirely. She moves her eyes towards Howard, who is standing still, in the doorway in front of Maggie. He is also watching her, and just like Forrest, Howard is able to hide his true feelings, and current emotions, from Maggie.

"Uhh….." Howard mumbles, before he coughs, three times to clear his throat. "Good to….um…Have you back, Maggie." he says, a little awkwardly, as he shifts his eyes from Maggie to Forrest, briefly.

His eyes move back to her, slowly, and out of respect, he continues to hold eye contact with Maggie, and does not stare or gawk at her injuries. He had looked over them, quickly, when she'd first stepped through the door.

Maggie smiles at Howard, so softly, and still with such kindness and warmth, before she says, "Good to be home, Howard."

Jack comes down, next, and the first thing that he does is greet Maggie with a smile. Much to Howard and Forrest's silent surprise, Jack does not gawk at Maggie's injuries, or mention them, instead he grins at her, and tells her that he missed her, and her cooking – because anyone else's cooking tasted like poison.

Howard muttered something under his breath, which Forrest caught the end of. Something along the lines of, "You'd know what poison tasted like, wouldn't you, Jack….?"

"Sit down, Jack, an' I'll make you somethin' now." Maggie tells Jack, as she takes a step towards the bench.

Both Howard and Forrest step forward, simultaneously, as Maggie does. Maggie shouldn't be working; it's as simple as that. She should be resting, so that she can heal and get better.

Howard shoots Jack a look, telling him not to accept Maggie's offer because she isn't well, before turning his full attention back to Forrest, who hasn't moved from Maggie's side.

"You don't have to be doin' that, Maggie." Jack says, with a small smile, as he looks, briefly, from Howard to Forrest, who are both standing stiffly and with no expression on their tired faces.

Jack knows Howard hasn't slept while Maggie was away. Jack would hear him, downstairs, drinking, and stumbling over things. After Howard would lock up the station, he'd head out to his room and drink until the morning sun would rise, and even then, he wouldn't stop. Forrest would come back, in the mornings, and mutter something under his breath while making the two of them breakfast, and then he'd head back into town, to see Maggie.

Forrest was like that – he'd take care of his family, even when he should've been taking care of himself. He hadn't been sleeping much, either; Howard could tell that much, even if he couldn't tell that much about Forrest.

"Uhh…." Forrest begins, as he continues to watch Maggie. "Mm…Need your rest. Doctor said…."

Maggie looks to Forrest, and tells him, softly, "I'm not tired, Forrest."

Forrest doesn't move, and for a moment he doesn't seem to breath, before he says, "You best be-"

"I said I ain't tired, Forrest." Maggie cuts over Forrest, before he can finish his words.

Maggie knows what he was going to say. He was going to tell her that she best be getting her rest – but she doesn't need her rest. Maggie knows what she needs, and it isn't rest. She needs to keep herself busy, because rest won't do her any good right now.

"Now…." Maggie continues, as she steps past Forrest and Howard. "Jack, sit down an' I'll make you somethin'." she tells him, as she begins moving around behind the bench.

She looks up at Jack who, hesitantly and a little reluctantly, takes a seat down onto one of the stools. "You boys hungry?" Maggie questions, moving her gaze over Howard and Forrest.

Howard, whose bloodshot eyes hadn't lifted from Maggie for a moment, shakes his head, as he lowers it, slightly. He casts one more look over Maggie, before dropping his gaze to the floor, entirely, muttering something to himself, and moving towards the front doors of the station. Once reaching the doors, Howard steps through them, and heads outside.

Forrest makes a low, almost inaudible grunt, before he picks up Maggie's suitcase and begins moving it upstairs, to her room.

After cooking Jack some lunch, Maggie, slowly, returns to her normal routine, and chores, around the house. Before she is aware of it; the night has crept up on her, and she feels exhausted. She doesn't let on to any of the brothers, of how she is feeling, as she serves them dinner. She doesn't serve a plate for herself, because she isn't hungry, and only makes dinner for Forrest, Howard and Jack, who are all seated at one of the tables, closest to the bench, in the room.

With a lit cigarette resting between the fingers of her left hand, Maggie pulls out the empty chair, on the left of Forrest, and slowly, sits down in it. She notices that Forrest does not lift his eyes from her, as she takes her seat, and even once she is seated, his eyes do not falter from hers.

"Uhhh….You ain't eating, then….?" Forrest mutters, as he continues to hold Maggie's gaze.

Jack, who is too busy eating, doesn't look up, and for a moment doesn't even acknowledge that Forrest spoke. Howard lifts his head, very slowly; so that his eyes may fall upon Forrest. He shifts his gaze, onto Maggie, before he mutters, "Mm…You can…have mine." he says, before pushing the dinner plate over towards her.

Howard hadn't touched his food, yet, and while it does look delicious, he'd rather that Maggie ate, and kept herself healthy, because right now, as he was looking at her, Howard could see that she wasn't well.

"I ain't hungry….Besides, I made it for you, Howard." Maggie answers, quickly, but with a soft voice, as she lifts Howard's plate, from where it rested on the table before her, and sets it down, back in front of Howard.

Maggie smiles at Howard, and Forrest, kindly, before she stands from the table, and pushes her chair in. She returns to the bench, and begins wiping it down, and cleaning up for the night. It doesn't take Maggie long to clean up, for the night, and once she's done she finds that both Jack and Forrest are gone, from the room. She guesses that Jack went up, to sleep. She wonders where Forrest must have got to, so early

She finds that Howard has changed seats; he's moved to a seat at the bar, on one of the stools. On the bench rests two jars of moonshine; one is opened, and half empty, and the other is unopened and resting still.

Howard's eyes, which are bloodshot, flicker down to the unopened bottle, and then up to Maggie, who has lit a new cigarette. He watches her as she stands still, like she is frozen, for a moment. When she looks at those jars, she is reminded of when she was forced to open them, for Oliver.

Maggie breathes in, sharply, and almost involuntary; she isn't entirely sure why she breathes in so sharply. Her right hand moves, quickly, towards her stomach. Silently, she feared that she was bleeding again. For a second, she was reliving the moment in which Oliver pressed the knife against her stomach.

Howard all but jumps out of his seat, as he reaches his right hand out, to Maggie's shoulder, to steady her.

"You alright, Maggie?" Howard asks; he speaks quickly, and with clear panic to his normally unreadable tone.

Maggie keeps her hand pressed, ever so gently, on her stomach, as the moment of momentary panic fades away, and she is left standing, feeling foolish and slightly embarrassed, with Howard by her side. She hadn't even noticed he'd stood up from the stool, and now, he stood beside her.

"I'm gonna….go" Howard mutters, softly, as he takes a step away from Maggie. "Go, an' get…Forrest."

"Don't need to be doing that, Howard." Maggie says; softly, and quickly, as she stops him from leaving by, gently, reaching out and grabbing onto his arm, just above his elbow, with her right hand..

Howard frowns, slightly, as he silently wonders why Maggie wouldn't want him to go and get Forrest. "But….You…." he begins, still with a soft voice.

"I'm alright, Howard….Just the jars, seeing it….is all." she answers, still with a soft, and kind tone, in an attempt to ease Howard's worries about her. "I'm alright, Howard." she repeats to him.

Howard stays silent, for a moment, and still, before he asks, "Uh….You want….some….then?" referring to the moonshine, he's asking if she wants a jar; to help forget her troubles, her fears, her memories, and to ease the pain.

Even if it's only a momentary relief from the pain, and the memories, it's still a relief, and it could be of some help to her as it has, in some ways, helped Howard; it's numbed his pain. He doesn't feel it, anymore. He wants to help Maggie, so that she won't feel it anymore. He wants to help her, so that she feels better, and safe, and happier, but he doesn't have any idea on how he would even begin to do such a thing. He isn't good at helping people, through hard times, he couldn't help himself.

Forrest, who had been silently observing the two of them for a minute, takes a step forward, out of the doorway, and says, in a low tone, "Uhh….Everythin' alright?"

"Mm…." Maggie clears her dry throat, before asking, "Why wouldn't it be?" she asks, as she looks up to face Forrest.

Forrest's eyes shift, very slowly, from Howard to Maggie. Howard takes this as his cue to leave, and steps away from Maggie. He stumbles a little, towards the bench, picks up his jars of moonshine, and heads upstairs, to his room; the room, and the bed, that he rarely sleeps in, but rather drinks and drinks until he doesn't feel a thing, in.

"Uh….mmm…Maggie….Doctor said….Need to rest." Forrest mutters; he keeps his eyes, firmly, on her, as she steps out, from behind the bench, and, slowly, towards Forrest.

"I said I'm alright, Forrest." she says, so very softly that it's almost a whisper.

"Uhh….You ain't feelin' well?" Forrest asks, with a creased brow, of worry and concern, as his eyes move down to Maggie's hand, which still rests on her stomach.

She hadn't realized her hand had still rested there; when the realization hits, she lowers her hand, very slowly, down to her side, and the two of them stand in a silence. They stand in a silence that is filled with hundreds of words.

Forrest knows; he heard her moment of panic, and fear. He knows she was holding her hand there to stop the bleeding, even when the wound was stitched. She wasn't bleeding now, but for a second, her hand felt frozen; it was as though any attempt to pull it away would only worsen the wound, and cause further bleeding.

"I asked you a question." he says; taking another step towards Maggie.

She looks tired, worn, exhausted. He knows that she needs to rest, because she didn't get much, if any, the night before. He can see, in her eyes, which she's tired, and she needs to sleep. She needs to sleep, because she needs to rest so that she may get better.

"I'm feelin' fine, Forrest." she says; meeting his unwavering gaze, finally, she gives him the tiniest smile which does nothing to reassure him that she is feeling fine, it leads him to believe the opposite.

"Best be gettin' some rest, now." Forrest tells her; meaning for her to head on upstairs, get ready for bed, and sleep.

When Maggie doesn't move, for a moment, Forrest repeats, softly, "Go on, now. Get some rest."

Maggie nods, very slowly, at Forrest's words. Perhaps, rest will do her good. In the morning, when she wakes, she might feel better. Maggie steps away from Forrest, and moves towards the staircase. He can hear her, moving around upstairs, as he finishes locking up the station. After turning off all of the lights downstairs, Forrest follows Maggie's earlier steps, and heads upstairs. He steps towards the light bulb, which is still lit, and turns it off; as he does every other night.

Forrest is careful to move, slowly and as silently as he can, into their room. Once inside, he shuts the door, so quietly, and moves towards his side of the bed.

He casts a long look over Maggie; her eyes stay closed, she's lying on her side, facing the window, with the blanket covering her shoulders. Despite her closed eyes, and the soft rise and fall of her chest under the blankets, Maggie wasn't sleeping; she hadn't slept while Forrest had moved around, downstairs. He knew that, as soon as he'd shut their bedroom door, that she hadn't been sleeping, and that she was very much awake.

Neither says a word, as Forrest gets down, into bed, beside Maggie. He pulls the blankets up over his body, and positions himself so that he is lying on his back. He allows a small, silent breath of air to pass his lips; a sigh. His body aches but he hasn't said a word, and he won't. Maggie already has enough going on, at the moment, without the added, unnecessary, worry that him telling her of his pain would cause. He'll be fine, in the morning. He just needs to sleep, that's all.

Forrest cranes his neck, to the left, so that he may look down upon Maggie. He watches her, very silently, for a moment; she seems so peaceful, here. She isn't in pain, at this moment, she isn't feeling fear, or sadness. He wishes, only, that he could ensure that she'd never feel any of those things again, and that she'd only feel the good things in life.

"When Oliver came…." Maggie says; her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes stay closed, and as she, trails of, momentarily, she presses her lips together.

She needs to tell Forrest, this. She needs to get this off of her chest, and out of her mind, because it's toxic, and the very thought of what he could have done to her, and the idea of what she did; it's poisoning her.

"I cut him, with the knife." she tells Forrest, so very softly, as though he is unaware that she had done so.

"Mmm…." Forrest grunts, in response, because he knows this, already. He continues to watch Maggie, as she continues to stay, with her back towards him, and her eyes closed tightly.

"He was stronger…." she whispers, as she clutches her wedding ring, tightly, in her right hand.

Maggie waits for Forrest to speak to her, to say anything; she receives only silence. And the silence does not comfort her; it does not console her or want her to confess to Forrest. It makes her want to pull the sheets up over her bed, keep her eyes closed, and lie there for hour, upon hour, surrounded by darkness, by also by the security that the sheets provide.

After letting out a deep, shaky sigh, Maggie continues, "And, he…uh….Tore my blouse...…"

First, Maggie receives silence; she thinks that Forrest won't speak, but he does. Forrest's voice is low, and frighteningly calm, as he asks, "What did he do to you, Maggie?"

"Nothin'…" Maggie replies, very quickly – too quickly for Forrest to believe, for a second, that Oliver didn't do anything to her.

The thought of Oliver hurting Maggie, as those men had hurt her; it's enough to drive Forrest completely mad. He finds himself filled entirely with anger when he thinks of someone, anyone, causing Maggie pain.

"I asked you a question." Forrest says, with a impassive, almost calm, tone; he's trying to stay calm, and emotionless, for Maggie's sake, because he wants her to get well, and him showing her how the very thought of another man laying a hand on her makes him furious won't help her get better.

"An' I'm tellin' you, he didn't do a damn thing, Forrest. He wanted….I told him…." she stops, before she can finish those last words.

Maggie told Oliver something; a lie, because she was terrified. She couldn't go through it again. She wouldn't go through it again, because if he had done to her what those men had done, she wouldn't have come out alive, not in her mind anyway. Even if she had come out of it with her heart beating, and all other parts of her functioning properly, she would've been dead inside.

"Uhh….Told him what?..." Forrest mutters, lowly; all the while, he still continues to watch Maggie.

"He was going…" Maggie begins, but finds she cannot finish that sentence. She doesn't need to finish it because they both knew what the end of that sentence was going to be. Oliver was going to do to her what those men had done.

"I told him I was pregnant." she says; her voice could be considered a whisper, as she says it so softly, and so low, that she's almost certain Forrest didn't hear.

Forrest did hear it, though. As the words had passed Maggie's lips, he'd heard it. He had sat, still, unmoving, and silent, for a moment, as her words repeat through his mind.

"Forrest?" she calls out, with a soft, and almost timid, tone, into the darkness.

At first, she receives silence. She hates, dreads and fears this silence. There was always a silence between Maggie and Forrest, but it was a comfortable silence. This was entirely different to that, because _before_; in that silence, they had silent words, or glances, and they knew what the other was thinking. In this new silence, Maggie hadn't the faintest idea of what Forrest was thinking, and that scared her, it scared her because she didn't want to lose him, and yet, part of her thought how he would be better, without her.

She considered herself to be selfish because despite her believing that Forrest would be better without her, she could never bring herself to willingly leave him. She knew that he deserved better, and yet she didn't care, and that was a selfish thing, to not care that the person you love, wholeheartedly, could do better.

What Maggie didn't understand, though, was how every day; every second, Forrest doubted that he deserved a woman such as Maggie Beauford – Maggie Bondurant, now. He didn't truly believe that she had become Maggie Beauford, his wife. He didn't consider himself to be good enough, for her. He knew that she deserved a better man, but he didn't care, because he wanted to be with her, always.

"Uh….Are you?" Forrest asks, lowly, after a moment of silent hesitation.

"No, I ain't." she answers, with a soft, but tired tone.

"Uh…Mmm….." he grunts, in response; this is the way he will express his secret and silent disappoint that Maggie is not pregnant, with his child. When Maggie had said those words, Forrest hadn't panicked, on the contrary, he'd considered, for a moment, what their life would be like if they were to have children. He could, for the first time in his life, see himself having children; with Maggie.

"Forrest?" Maggie whispers, into the dark, with a voice filled with shakiness and doubt; it echoes through the dark room, and once his name is whispered, he can, for a moment, still hear it lingering in the room.

"Mmm?" Forrest grunts; still, all this time, watching her, carefully.

Maggie begins, with a louder voice, but stutters and hesitates on a few words, as she tells him, "I told him….I was…I didn't want him to…."

"Mmm…." Forrest replies, lowly, and that's all that he says because that's all that he can say about it.

Forrest can't speak about it because he doesn't want to remind her of the pain, which has, and could have been, inflicted on her. The pain that he was unable to prevent, and unable to heal completely, because the pain was still there, he could see it in her eyes; their silent glances, he could see it in her smile; which lacked the life that it had held, not so long ago.

"That's it? That's all you're gonna say?" she asks Forrest, getting slightly riled up as she does.

Forrest frowns, slightly, at the sound of her voice rising, in anger, and asks her, "Uh…What'd you-"

"You ain't gonna get mad, an' tell me what a horrible person I am – lying, 'bout being pregnant, so he wouldn't…What if I was? He would've-" Maggie says; she talks fast, and with a voice so loud, Forrest is almost certain Howard would've caught that, considering he never sleeps, and he's in the room down from theirs.

"Maggie…." Forrest begins; he draws out her name, slowly, clearly enunciating each letter, which holds a certain tone to it; a clear caring tone to it.

"You don't deserve me." she announces; as though she's made up her mind, and nothing can be said to change that she's come to the decision that he doesn't deserve her. "You deserve better than me."

She truly believes that he does deserve better; as he believes she deserves better. They're both wrong, though; they don't deserve better, or someone else – they deserve each other; and they could never, for as long as they lived, and searched, find someone else who they could claim was someone better. They were better, together; they made each other better. They find the best in each other, and that is what they truly deserve.

Forrest stays silent, for a very long time, that Maggie believes he may have fallen asleep. He hasn't, though. He's considering her words, and how very wrong that she is, and he's thinking of her; he's thinking of all that she has been through, all he is unaware of, and the guilt that she carries. He worries for her, in this silence; he won't voice these concerns, because she would instantly deny them.

"Maggie…." Forrest says, softly; hoping that he did not wake her as he spoke.

"You deserve better, Forrest." she answers, almost instantly, with a tone that is similar to that of a defeated one. "It's as simple as that…I protected myself, when, if I'd been pre-"

"You ain't though, Maggie." he tells her, cutting over her, with a low tone; she shouldn't be carrying this unnecessary guilt.

"I just…..I don't…" Maggie stops, once more, as she finds herself at a loss for any words that could, possibly, finish that sentence. She doesn't have any, though, no words that she could use to speak to Forrest about this because right now, in this moment between them, and lately, words haven't helped.

"Maggie….." he says her name, once more, and just as softly as the times before.

"Can we sleep, Forrest?" she asks him; her voice barely above a whisper, again.

Forrest isn't entirely sure if the next words he hears are in his head, or if Maggie spoke them, out loud. They had been so quiet, softer than a whisper; she had said, "Sorry."

Whether she had spoken those words, or if they had been all in his head, Forrest wouldn't acknowledge them either way because Maggie had absolutely nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all.

Neither Forrest nor Maggie speaks another word, that night, because words won't be helpful, tonight. Instead of words, Maggie finds a, momentary, comfort and solace beside Forrest. She turns, so very slowly, over in bed, so that she is lying on her right side; he meets her tired gaze, and says nothing as her eyes close; he knows how she longs to sleep, and tonight, he will help her in resting, because she needs to rest. He needs her to rest, so that she will get better; so that he will never lose her. Forrest shuts his eyes, shortly after, and allows himself to rest, tonight. Tonight, they will rest together, and wake together, and soon enough, they'll make it through this, and heal together. They'll be happy together, as they were before. They'll be together, in the end.

* * *

**A/N: I'm so sorry for my late update, as I mentioned earlier I was hit with writer's block, but I passed that, and then things got very busy for me and I didn't find much free time. I re-wrote this chapter a fair bit, because I wasn't happy with it and wanted to give you the best that could.**

**I'll update more frequently from now on!**

**Dear Guest Reviewer; Guest; who posted on Chapter 6;  
Thanks so very much! I'm so happy you thought it was great, I will try to keep up the good work! Sorry you had to wait a little while for this one. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing :)**

**A big thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my story, it seriously means so much and I am so deeply grateful.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	9. Found the place to rest my head

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.**

* * *

"Mama?" Maggie whispers, softly, as she slowly and carefully pushes open the door to her Mama's bedroom.

"Maggie….?" she answers back; her voice is so low, so shaky, and so weak, that Maggie barely recognizes it as belonging to her mother. "What're you doin' in here, darling….." she asks, weakly, before she stops, to cough.

Maggie moves, so very quickly, to her mother's side. She's propped up against pillows, with a thin, white, bed sheet draped over her. Her forehead is covered in droplets of sweat, which have also stained her chest and arms. Her long hair is slightly damp, from the sweat, and pushed back, off of her face.

Her Mama whispers, softly, "Shouldn't….Be in here, baby…"

She finds the strength to open her eyes to see Maggie, standing by her side. In her eyes, she sees a fear, and a pain, that a mother should never have to see in their child's eyes.

"I'm gonna be fine, Maggie…." she tells her.

Maggie stays silent, despite her mother's words, which should reassure her but they don't. They don't reassure her. They don't make her believe her because she had heard the doctor, telling her mama the bad news. Tears begin to well up, in Maggie's eyes, now, as she climbs up, onto the mattress, and next to her mama, in bed. She crawls in, close to her mother, and buries her head against her mama's chest. They both close their eyes, now, as they hold each other, in their arms.

"Mama?" Maggie asks; her voice is so soft, and timid, as she breaks the silence that lasted for hours.

For hours, they held each other. For hours, and hours, they clung, desperately, to the other, whom they loved so much. They found solace, a place of peace and love, with each other. Neither ever wished to leave this place, because this was the place that they belonged, together.

Her mama replies, weakly, "Yes, baby girl?"

"Want me to tell you a story?" she asks her mama, because whenever she is sick, or tired, her mama would always tell her a story, and it would always make her fall asleep.

And, if they fell asleep now, together, then they'd wake, together, in the morning; and things would be better then, because as her mama always told her and as she always believed; _things were always better in the morning light._

"Yes…" she answers, with a lower voice, now.

"There are two girls….Best of friends…." Maggie begins, softly.

Maggie's mama cuts in, and asks, "What're their names?"

"Marie and Maggie." Maggie tells her.

Her mama had smiled at this, and had stayed silent, waiting for her daughter to continue.

Maggie opens her eyes, now, and sets her gaze down onto her mama. "Best of friends….They were mother an' daughter….They lived on a farm, far, far away from here." she tells her; she speaks slowly, so that her mama will hear each and every word, so that she will never forget this place, the place that they will one day have together.

Maggie's mama whispers, gently, "Franklin."

Maggie's granddad had grown up, in Franklin, and used to take his children there, a few times a year. They had a farm, once, in Franklin, but they had to sell it and move, away, when the business went under.

"In Franklin….An' they had a house that was big enough for them….Lots of animals….An' a garden filled with food, an' flowers…..An' they were really happy, here. Always smiling, and laughing, and they weren't ever sick, here, or sad. An' everyone they loved, everyone who made them happy, was there." Maggie whispers; her voice is a little softer, now.

"An' there light, mama….." Maggie adds, with a shakier voice.

Her Mama answers, softly, "Is it?"

"There's so much light, mama…Everythin' is lit up, in it," she whispers, softly, to her mother.

"Close your eyes, Maggie." she whispers, into her daughter's ear. She pulls Maggie in, a little closer, and whispers, Close your eyes an' we can go there, together."

Maggie wakes, slowly, and silently, to find that she isn't in her mother's room, she finds herself in her room, that she shares with Forrest. She finds that she is slightly disappointed by this because she had, truly, for a moment, believed that she and her mother had been together, again.

The soft, morning light has fallen, softly, through the window, and now sets down a gentle shadow on the room; half of the room has been lit up by the soft light, while the other half remains in what remains of the dark night.

A tear, which Maggie holds no control of and is unaware of, until she feels it fall onto her cheek, slides down her face, and onto the pillow that her head rests on.

She closes her eyes, now, and presses her lips together as she tries, desperately, to remember what her mama's voice sounded like, or what her son would look like, now. Maggie turns, to where she should find Forrest sleeping; but he is gone. The space beside Maggie is empty, as is the inside of her, in this moment. Forrest is gone, as she had feared he may be when she woke.

Maggie didn't intend to waste time dwelling on Forrest's absence, in the room, and what this emptiness may mean for them. She had planned to busy herself, with all that needs to be done, so that she wouldn't have to think about anything else.

However, when Maggie re-opens her eyes, she finds that the soft sun has long disappeared from the sky, and a dull, grey color has replaced its golden light. Rain is falling down, softly, outside; it hits the roof of the station, first and then echoes through the rest of the house.

Maggie moves, to climb out of bed, because she's not entirely sure what time it is, and how long her eyes had been closed for. She stops, suddenly, as she feels a sharp pain in her stomach. She'd almost forgotten, entirely, about the stitches in her stomach. Her hand reaches to her stomach, and she touches it, gently.

For a brief moment, a small second; Maggie had forgotten, about the past days, and the past weeks, events. She hadn't, for a second, remembered Oliver coming, to the station, or those men cutting Forrest's throat. She doesn't dwell on these thoughts, though, because there are things that have to be done, and right now, standing alone, thinking of thoughts and memories, that only cause pain, is not something Maggie chooses to do.

When Maggie eventually makes her way down stairs, after washing herself, changing into a clean light green blouse and black slacks, and brushing out her hair, she finds Forrest, already up, downstairs, in the kitchen. He has his back to her, and doesn't appear to notice her presence; he does notice her presence, though, he always does. He just doesn't acknowledge her presence, yet, because he's waiting for her to speak

Maggie finds Howard on a stool, finishing off a plate of scrambled eggs, but she doesn't see Jack, and wonders where he is, because if Jack was in the house, and he'd smelt bacon, he'd already be downstairs, with a plate in his hands, waiting for it to pile up on his plate.

She sees that Forrest is cooking something; he's cooking her breakfast; scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice.

"You don't need to be doin' that, Forrest." Maggie tells him, with a slightly croaky voice, as she steps behind the bench. "You go an' sit down." she says, as she walks across the floorboards, towards him.

"Uh….Just breakfast…is all, Maggie." Forrest replies; he meets her gaze to find tired, blue eyes looking back at him.

He doesn't move away from what he's doing, behind the bench; he won't back down. Maggie needs rest, she needs to take it easy, and he's going to make sure she does just that. Forrest will always take care of Maggie; and if getting her to take it easy means, simply, starting off with making her breakfast, he'll do that. Then, slowly, he'll help out, around the Station, close up at night; the sorts of things that Maggie usually does, he'll try to help with. But he'll do it in a way that doesn't anger her, or upset, her, or make her feel like she's useless.

All Forrest wants to do, all he's ever wanted to do, is protect his family. It's as easy as breathing, to him. He doesn't have to think about what to do, he knows, already, what must be done to protect his family. And he does just that, without any second thoughts, because he knows it is the right thing to do. It is something that must be done. There may be consequences; he may never be able to wash the blood, from his skin, but that doesn't bother Forrest all that much. The consequences are little, in comparison to what could happen if he ever failed to act. He'd rather be stained, and soaked, in blood, than allow anything to happen to his family. He'll always protect, and care, for them – but he will do it in his way.

Forrest's way is the simple way; he does what needs to be done, and no one needs to acknowledge or thank him, or even be aware of what has been done. They'll go about their business like nothing ever happen, as they always have done, and always will do. He does what must be done, what needs to be done, because the Bondurant's don't lay down for anyone; they never have, and they never will.

"Alright…." Maggie says; finally.

Despite her agreeing, with Forrest, he can see the slight reluctantcy in her eyes; she's reluctant to let things change, she's also, extremely, reluctant to admit to herself, or anyone else, that anything has changed.

Maggie walks, slowly, back around, to the other side of the bench. She takes a seat, up, on one of the empty bar stools, the one next to Howard, and lets out a small breath of air, she hadn't been aware she had been holding in.

Howard watches her, carefully, as she sits up on the stool. He's watching her carefully because he's still concerned, about her. He's worried about Maggie because she is like family, to him, and he cares, so greatly, for his family. He knows, now, that nothing else is going to happen to Maggie. Howard knows this because Forrest won't let it happen, and he sure as hell won't let it happen either.

"You sleep well, Howard?" Maggie asks; her voice still holds the same softness, and warmth, to it, as it always has.

Howard mutters something, incoherent, in response, and shrugs his shoulders, slightly. If he's being honest; he didn't sleep at all. He'd heard Maggie, and Forrest; mainly Maggie, talking last night. But she wasn't just talking. She was getting real upset, and it worried Howard, but he didn't go in. Whatever was going on was between Maggie and Forrest - not Maggie, Forrest and Howard, well, that's how Howard saw it anyway. So, he'd stumbled outside, down to his room, and had spent the night there, drinking, and drinking, until he passed out. But even then, when he was passed out, he didn't sleep very long, at all.

"Ah….Just…" Howard begins; he waits, however, until Forrest has turned his back, slowly, until he leans in, a little closer to Maggie, and almost whispers, "Yours is better."

He gestures to the plate, once he has finished speaking, and leans back, to how he was sitting earlier, on the stool.

"Don't like mine, Howard, don't eat it." Forrest says; he speaks, loudly, and without glancing back at the two of them.

Maggie and Howard, simultaneously, smile at this; Howard laughs, at this, as does Maggie; her laugh is light, and genuine, and it makes Howard, and Forrest, realize how long it's been since she has truly laughed.

Forrest turns around with a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, in his hands. He places it down, gently, in front of Maggie, and then he places a mug of juice, next to the plate. She smiles at Forrest, softly, and says, "Thank you, Forrest."

Both Maggie and Forrest turn to look towards Howard, now, who has stood from his stool, and now holds his hat in his hands.

"Where you off to, Howard?" Maggie asks, before she takes a small sip of juice from the mug.

Forrest remains silent, as he too, watches Howard, wondering where it is he is off to. Jack comes down the stairs now; he walks, a little faster than he did a week ago, but still, at a slightly slowed pace.

Jack has in his head, about Maggie, and Oliver, right out of his head, with his own hands if he has

"Takin' Jack to see the preacher's daughter….Betty…." Howard mutters, with a slight shrug.

"Bertha." Jack corrects him, with a small frown. Jack turns, towards Maggie, smiles and says, "Mornin' Maggie, Forrest."

"Bertha…Betty…Gertrude…" Howard mumbles; his eyes are red, bloodshot, as he glances back up, at Maggie. She catches his gaze; he looks tired, worn, and stressed, but she wouldn't say anything, because she knows that Howard isn't one to talk about those things.

He nods at her, ever so slightly; Forrest doesn't even catch it. Howard nodding at Maggie is, in a way, a sign; he's telling her that he'll knock whatever notions to. Howard knows Maggie doesn't care about people talking, but still, he feels that her business is hers, and no one else's. Not Jack's, not Howard's, and not the whole towns.

Maggie smiles, softly, at both Jack and Howard, as she answers, "Mornin' Jack."

Jack steps forward, towards Maggie and towards her plate; his stomach growls, now. He'd had breakfast earlier, that morning, just some toast, and that bacon smells delicious to him.

Forrest lifts his eyes, from Maggie, very slowly, towards Jack, and once he sets his eyes upon him, he watches him, very carefully, awaiting his next move.

Howard, who has taken a slight step forward mutters, just so Jack will hear, "Better watch that hand, Jack…If you…don't want to lose it….."

"I'll tell Bertha you said 'Morning." Jack declares, with a grin on his face, as he steps back, away from the plate, with a grin on his face. Seeing Bertha is much more important to Jack than eating bacon, and he steps away from the plate and moves, eagerly, towards the front doors.

Howard, who has placed his hat on his head, follows after Jack, mumbling something along the lines of, "Ever keep that mouth shut, Jack?"

Once Howard and Jack are gone, Forrest makes his way towards the stool, beside Maggie, and sits down on it, with his own breakfast on a plate. They eat their breakfast, mostly, in a silence that seems to be following them, lately. When Maggie has finished with her meal, she stands, and takes her plate, around, to the other side of the bench. She finds that Forrest finishes, just as she does, and he follows her earlier steps, behind the bench. She knows what he will say, now, he will say that he will take care of it, clean it up, and that she should rest.

What Maggie feels she needs, right now, isn't rest. Rest is the opposite of what she needs. She needs distractions, and keeping herself busy with tasks can provide the distractions that she needs, right now. Tomorrow might be different; tomorrow, she may find that, she might need rest.

Maggie allows Forrest to take her plate, and mug, before she begins moving around the kitchen. Forrest watches her with a curiosity, as she pulls out a small bowl, a washcloth, a few fresh bandages, and a small bottle of iodine.

"What're you doin'?" Forrest asks, as he places the plates down, onto the bench. He thinks that she plans to clean her own wounds, but that isn't her intention, not at all.

"Takin' care of you." Maggie replies, simply, as she walks towards one of the many empty tables. She places the bowl, which is now filled with water, down onto the table. She puts down the washcloth, clean bandages, and bottle of iodine, next to them.

"Uhh….What 'bout takin' care….of yourself….Mmmm?" Forrest questions, as he continues to keep his gaze on her.

"Please, sit down, Forrest." she says, softly, as she looks up at him, from beside the table.

Forrest takes a few, small steps, towards Maggie, as he answers, "Uh….I ain't…uh….I ain't gettin' undressed… down here."

"Alright…." Maggie agrees. She stops, and sighs, softly, before she suggests, "Help me carry these, upstairs?"

Forrest grunts, disapprovingly, in response. He considers his response, silently, for a moment, before he finds the words; he isn't entirely sure that these are the right words, but that doesn't matter. What matters to Forrest is Maggie, and she needs to rest, otherwise she's going to make herself ill, or cause herself pain.

"Uh….You need….Doctor said….Should be restin'." he says; his voice is both low, and soft, as he steps, closer, towards her.

"No." Maggie replies, quickly, but still with a soft tone. "That ain't what I need, Forrest."

"Mmm….It is." he answers, lowly; he knows that this is what she needs to do, to get better.

Maggie won't take care of herself, like she should be, and she won't let Forrest, or anyone else, take care of her. Forrest doesn't know why, but he does now that he's going to take care of her, as best as he can and he doesn't intend to give up trying to take care of her.

She shakes her head, once, as she says, slowly, but with a louder tone, "It ain't what I need, Forrest. I'm rested. I slept."

Forrest, for a moment, just watches Maggie. He takes in each detail of her; her tired expression, her paler skin, her bruises, and cuts, and the light that has faded, slightly, from her eyes. He knows that he has failed; he failed to protect her, to keep her safe, and to take care of her. He's never going to make that mistake again.

"Go on, now. Go rest, Maggie." Forrest says; he isn't really suggesting it, now, as he was, before.

Maggie closes her eyes, so very briefly, and the re-opens this. She wants to take care of Forrest; she needs to take care of him. She needs to keep herself busy; busy from her thoughts, from her memories, from the pain.

"Forrest…." she says; her voice, which is almost a whisper, is still gentle, and soft, and kind, as it always has been, but there's a tone of pleading, in it. It's as though she's almost pleading with him, to let her be.

She is pleading with him; she doesn't want to rest. She might consider resting if he was beside her, but even then, it's not something that she wants to do. She doesn't want to rest, upstairs, in their bed, because she'll be left, all alone, with her thoughts, and the memories, and the blood – and she doesn't want to be alone with that, just yet.

"I ain't tired." she tells him; and despite that her voice is soft and gentle, he doesn't believe her.

Maggie's not entirely sure she believed her own words; she is tired. Her body is not only tired, from what it has been through in these past days, but her mind is also tired; tired from the memories, the hauntings, the darkness, and the blood. She longs for the morning she will awake, in the soft light, and be free of it all, and be blissfully happy with Forrest, and Howard and Jack.

Perhaps, one day, that morning will come. Perhaps, she'll get the morning she desperately longs for, and dreams of.

Forrest grunts, lowly, and says nothing else, as he continues to hold Maggie's gaze.

Maggie says, softly, "I'm gonna peel some potatoes, on the verandah….That alright, Forrest?"

He holds her gaze, and remains silent, for a while; because he thinks all that Maggie should be doing is resting. But, maybe peeling potatoes on the verandah isn't so bad, he thinks. She'll be doing something, but it isn't something that could be considered physically exhausting.

"Uh…Mmm… …" Forrest grunts, lowly, in response to Maggie's question.

This isn't what Forrest wanted, for Maggie. He wanted her to rest, to heal, and get better. But, maybe this is her way of getting better. He'll just have to wait, and give her time, and see if she gets better, this way. He hopes she does. He prays she does. He spends his days and nights thinking of Maggie, as he always has and always will; and some of these, if not most, of these many, many thoughts of Maggie, he worries about her, constantly. He worries that she isn't well, or she'll make herself worse, or that he will lose her, and he doesn't want any of those things to happen.

For now, he won't argue with Maggie, and he'll let her do what she feels she has to do, to get better. But if it doesn't work, and if she doesn't get better, then she'll rest, for as long as is needed for her to get well again.

* * *

The rain was still falling down, as Howard sat, in the front seat of the car, with three bottles of moonshine, two unopened, on the floor, besides his feet. He'd dropped Jack off, at Bertha's, and had told him he'd be back within the hour, because they couldn't be doing all that much, in this rain, together, and that Bertha's father sure as hell wouldn't let Jack come inside the house. Jack had told Howard that they'd be together, out in the farmhouse, and that her father only came out their occasionally. This had made Howard laugh, and he'd grinned that Jack was still hiding from him. Howard had dropped Jack off, outside of their house, and had driven back, into town.

He'd considered driving, all the way, back to the Station, but had decided against it for two reasons. The first, being, that it would be a waste of money, to refill the car with gas, because the drive to Bertha's place, from town, was much shorter in comparison to the drive from the Station to town. The second reason Howard had decided to sit, in the car, in town, and drink his moonshine, was because he'd thought that Maggie and Forrest needed a word, a moment, alone, in private.

Howard had spoken – the conversation had almost been entirely one-sided, with Howard doing the talking and Jack doing the listening. Howard had talked to Jack, about what had happened at the station, with Maggie, and Oliver. Howard had started off with a low tone, as his eyes had flickered, occasionally to Jack, in the passenger seat, then, he'd gotten serious – it was frighteningly serious to Jack. Howard had warned Jack that if he was to overhear anyone saying a word about what had happened at the station, that day, or anything else about Maggie Beauford, then he'd slap Jack – Jack had cut him off, there, and he had been so serious, and so sincere and genuine, as he had sworn to Howard, on his life, that he would never, ever, repeat nothing, about that, or about Maggie, because she was their family, and he'd never do that to family.

Howard hadn't shown it, to Jack, but hearing those words come from Jack's mouth, and listening to how much he cared for his family, it made Howard proud, and it had made him want to smile, but he hadn't, he'd kept those thoughts to himself, and nodded, at Jack, and the two of them hadn't said another word until they'd reached Bertha's. Jack had known, from Howard's expression, he'd been pleased with his response, and that was, really, all Jack had needed to know. He'd meant everything he said; Maggie was

Howard lifts the jar of moonshine to his lips, and takes a very large, and long, sip. As he finishes, he lifts his eyes to the window; outside, he can see people, rushing across the streets, or down them, in search of shelter from the rain. He squints his eyes, so that he may, be able to better see the figure, dressed in a light green and white dress, with a broken umbrella, who is also seeking shelter from the rain, may be.

Without a moment of hesitation, Howard tightens the lid of the jar, places it down onto the floor besides the two other unopened jars, places his hat down onto the car seat, removes his thick, dark blue, slightly dirtied, jacket and opens the door of the car.

As Howard steps out of the car, and closes the door behind him, the rain hits him; it drenches nearly every article of clothing on his body, but he doesn't mind. What he's concerned about, and who he is concerned about, is Evie. He was right; the woman he'd spotted, not very far up from where he'd parked the car, is Evie.

Upon catching sight of Howard walking towards her, just as drowned and drenched by the water as she is, Evie smiles; her smile is that of a slightly mad one, like she enjoys this weather, and being out in the rain, like this. Howard moves, quickly, towards her, and holds the jacket up, over her head; this shelters her, to some extent, from the rain.

"Uhh…Evie…Where you….Trying…Get to?" Howard asks; he lowers his head, slightly, so that he may better hear her.

They move, slowly, down, in the direction of Howard's car.

"I was planning on walkin' home." Evie replies, still with a smile.

"Ain't look like…Why don't you get in?" Howard suggests, as they move closer towards his car. "Drive…You home….Or somethin'."

Evie hesitates, as she looks up at Howard, who is getting wetter, and wetter, by the second, and she cannot help but feel guilty, for this, and she wouldn't want to put him out, or waste anymore of his day.

She shakes her head, slightly, as she answers, "Oh, I wouldn't want to put you out –"

"Wouldn't be," Howard replies; he answers without any hesitation, because she looks like she could use some help, and a lift home is the least that he can do for her.

"Oh….I don't know….Howard…." she replies, a little hesitantly.

Howard leans in, much closer to Evie than he'd planned or expected to, and says, very quickly, "Gonna catch a cold…An' we don't want that….Come on, now…."

"Thanks, Howard." Evie calls out, with a soft smile

Howard leads Evie in the direction of the car, and once reaching it, he steps forward, and opens the door for her, and all the while he still holds his jacket above her head. It's helping, a little, but she's still already completely soaked with water, that a little more water couldn't possible hurt – but Evie doesn't say this, because she finds it to be a sweet gesture, on Howard's part.

She slides into the car, quickly, and closes her own door. She only waits a few seconds, in the silence of the car, before Howard is around, on the other side; he slides in, and closes the door, as quickly as he can. He looks up, slowly, to meet her gaze, and finds that she is, still, smiling. Her brown hair is flatter, now, because of the rain, but some new, fresher curls have sprung up, in places. Her dress, a light green and white, long, thin dress, that reaches her ankles and has sleeves that stop just before her elbows, sticks, tightly, to her skin, but she doesn't seem to be aware of it, and Howard does his best not to look.

Evie turns, slightly, to face Howard, and still with a smile, she says, softly, "Thanks, Howard, for looking hard enough, to find me, this time. Otherwise, I'd be swimming home."

Howard smiles, at this, as he places his jacket down, onto the floor besides his jars of moonshine. Evie's eyes follow him, as he does this, and she cannot help but look down at the jars, on the floor. She tells herself it's not liquor, because it's too early for anyone to be drinking liquor, but the expression on Howard's face, which he had tried to hide, but hadn't been able to hide completely, tells her otherwise.

"What're you doin' in town, Howard?" Evie asks, as she sits back, against the seat.

Howard, who has started up the car, shrugs, and mutters, "Waitin'."

"That's vague." Evie states, honestly, and with her brown eyes on Howard.

"What're you doin' in town, then? Ain't got not bags….Not buyin'…nothin'…" Howard replies, quickly; he continues to keep his eyes on the road.

Evie is vague, now, as she replies, "Just walkin' 'round."

She tells Howard the directions to her house, where she's staying, and they, at first, drive in silence. Evie breaks the silence, however, as she asks, "So, what're you waitin' for, Howard Bondurant?"

"Mmm…My brother," he answers, after contemplating his answer.

Howard catches a side glance, at Evie; he takes in each and every detail, before turning his eyes back to the road.

"Forrest?" Evie asks, softly.

Howard shakes his head, and says, "Jack….Been wooing the preacher's daughter. Betty."

"Bertha," she corrects him; she's met Bertha, on a few occasions.

Howard nods, as Evie says Bertha's name – he knows her name is Bertha, he's always known that, and he doesn't get confused, he just likes messing around, with Jack, and riling him up, and he finds that by simply calling Bertha 'the preachers daughter', or 'Betty', works pretty well in doing just that.

"First time we met, you introduced yourself as Forrest. Can't remember Bertha's name, when it's pretty simple – for someone who ain't so great on remembering names, it's surprising you remembered mine…."

"Ahh….Yeah….Guess….Evelyn's a hard….name to forget." Howard mutters, in response, with a slight smile on his face, as he casts another look over Evie.

She's grinning now, despite that she doesn't like the name, all that much. "You're funny, Howard Bondurant. Real funny… " she replies, still smiling. "Jack's wooing Bertha...Who are you-"

"I ain't." Howard answers, very quickly, and before Evie can finish her words. "I ain't….no one." he adds; he mumbles, on most of the words, and is careful not to look back over, at Evie.

It isn't that he's nervous, around her, but it's different. He doesn't feel this way around Maggie, it's different around Evie, he isn't sure he's ever felt like this around anyone, before. And he doesn't quite understand how he feels, and what it means, exactly. And even if he did understand, what he felt, and even if he wanted to do something about those feelings; he won't, he can't – because he doesn't think he's good enough for her, or for anyone, and he doesn't believe he'd ever be good for someone else.

Howard convinces himself that Evie's just asking, out of curiosity, and he puts all and any momentary thoughts, that she may be interested, out of his mind because he believes them to be ridiculous thoughts, that could never be true, because a woman like her would never be interested in a man like him.

Luckily for Howard, he reaches the front yard, of her house; he thinks that it's lucky, because he won't have to feel nervous, and slightly anxious, once she's gone. But, he also finds it unlucky, because he enjoys, even though they've only spoken on two occasions, talking to Evie. She's real good company, and she's friendly, and she can have a good laugh

"You can stop here." Evie tells Howard, quickly, as they move closer, in the car, towards the house.

He pulls the car to an abrupt stop; he turns to face her now, with a look of confusion on his features, as he wonders why she'd want him to stop all the way up here, from the house, when he could drop her off, right near the stairs.

"Little rain never hurt anyone." Evie tells him; she smiles, as she finishes speaking, and continues to hold the small smile on her face as she moves, over on the seat, closer to Howard. "Thank you, for the lift, Howard." Evie whispers, softly, as she leans in, lifts her right hand to his left cheek, and, gently, kisses him on the right cheek. Her hand lingers on his cheek only for a second, after she has pulled away.

Howard coughs, several times, to clear his throat, and then he's just coughing because he doesn't have any words – he has plenty of words, he just doesn't consider them to be the right ones, just as he doesn't himself to be the right man for Evie.

"Hope I get to see you again, Howard." Evie says, as she moves towards the door.

"Uhh…Mmm…Yeah. OK." Howard answers; he grunts, at first, and then mutters the last words. He realizes now, how much he sounds like Forrest by grunting.

* * *

**Thanks for the continued support, from everyone, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**


	10. It's the only way I can escape

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I own only the O/C characters and ideas created of this story.**

* * *

Forrest had watched Maggie from his chair on the verandah peeling potatoes; she had, for most of the time, done her best to avoid his gaze which, despite his excellent attempts at watching her without her knowing, she knew was on her for most of the time she peeled potatoes. The rain had only worsened, at the station and there wasn't much to do anyway so Forrest had taken one of the seats near Maggie and with a mug in his hand, which he occasionally drank from, he'd watched her peeling.

"All done." Maggie announces, as she lowers the last potato she'd finished peeling into the bucket, with the other clean potatoes.

She stands, quickly, from the wooden chair; forgetting again as she had forgotten this morning about the stitches in her stomach and how standing so quickly would pull at them and would remind her how tired her body really was.

Forrest, who had rarely lifted his eyes from Maggie since she'd taken her seat on the verandah and begun to peel potatoes, knows that something is wrong because he knows her too well to think otherwise.

"I'm alright, Forrest." she says, hoarsely, and without even looking at Forrest, because she knows that he will already be watching her as he always does.

She is fine. That is what she is continually telling herself. She has to remind herself that she's safe, now, and that she's okay, and that this pain she is feeling in her stomach and the emptiness she is feeling inside will go away soon enough.

In time the pain and the emptiness will have disappeared and it will be as though she was never scared, frightened or in pain and it will feel as though none of this ever happened. In time it will feel like a horrible nightmare, a lifetime ago. You won't feel the pain as badly as you feel it now in the future; these are the words that Maggie is repeatedly telling herself because they help.

Despite that these words may not necessarily be the truth, in time she may not feel better and she may still feel just as frightened, scared or empty and the pain may continue to creep up, the possibility of feeling nothing but happiness and love, in time, are helping Maggie to get through this.

"I'm just…." Maggie begins but stops as she glances up to Forrest, who is by her side. "Here….." she tells him as she holds out the peeler to him. "Can you take it – I think…I'll rest."

Forrest takes the peeler from Maggie's pale hand, and follows her as she steps, slowly, inside. He keeps his eyes on her, as they move across the kitchen – he cannot help his eyes which glance down to where he can clearly remember the blood staining the floor. As his eyes move over the floor, he cannot help the thoughts that enter his mind such as where he wonders those men had found Maggie and hurt her, and how close she had been to him when it had all happened.

"I can make it upstairs, by myself, Forrest." Maggie tells him, as she stops, abruptly; but she does not turn to face him.

Forrest is the one who walks, around, towards her so that they are facing each other. He continues to watch her with an intensity that he always does and for a moment they stand in a silence. All that can be heard is the rain, which continues to fall down, tirelessly, onto the station.

"I'm alright, Forrest. Just need to sleep…." Maggie says, with a softer tone, and that's all that she says.

"Mmm….Alright…." Forrest mutters, in response.

Forrest doesn't follow Maggie upstairs because she'd said that she was fine to make it upstairs by herself, and Forrest believes her because he knows that she's a strong woman.

After he brings the potatoes inside and washes the peeler, Forrest wanders slowly up the stairs and as quietly as he can he makes his way towards her door, their door; upon reaching it he stops and remembers many nights when he would find himself outside of Maggie's door, making sure that she was okay.

Once Forrest would see her sleeping, so peacefully, he would be convinced that she was okay and that he had nothing to worry about. It was different, now, as he looked in at her through the crack of the door which was always left open – it had become a habit of Maggie's, whenever she went to bed without Forrest or whenever she would wait for him to come up and join her, she would leave the door slightly open.

It is different this time, to Forrest looking in, because as he sets his eyes down upon her and watches her under the sheets breathing softly in and out, he can't be as sure as he had been those other nights that she is fine.

Forrest isn't tired, despite his inability to sleep much these past nights, and he has no intention to leave the Station unattended and spend the day sleeping; so instead he'd make sure that once Howard and Jack were both home and they were capable of doing what needed to be done around the station, and making sure it wasn't left unattended, he would come upstairs and he'd take a seat at the chair in the corner of the room so that he would be there when she woke up.

As Forrest walks away, he silently hopes that Maggie sleeps well and that she wakes feeling better. He knows that there isn't an easy cure or fix for what's happened to her, and what she's going through, but that doesn't bother Forrest in the least because when he'd first met Maggie Beauford that there wouldn't be anyone else for him.

He'll wait around for as long as it takes for her to get better, and he'll help as much as he can even if he isn't sure where to begin or how to help. Forrest doesn't care, all that much, that Maggie thinks she doesn't want his help or doesn't need any help because she does and as her husband that is what Forrest is going to do for her.

Forrest is completely aware that things are much different now in comparison to how they were before. He knows there are a lot of things between Maggie and Forrest; there are those things left unsaid, and there are those that have been left undone. There are things that Forrest doesn't want to think of, and so, he tries his hardest not to let himself think of them. But there are always things that a man, no matter how hard he tries, cannot ignore.

There is a point in your life, when you cannot shed the guilt as easily as you once used to. And this guilt that Forrest cannot shed is the guilt of his failures; his failures to protect Maggie, from those men and from Oliver, and his failure to help her when he should have. He won't fail again.

There are few things in life that a man can be completely certain of. Then there are those things that they have always been aware of and things they will always do.

Forrest Bondurant is man of few words, to say the least. He has never been a man that would speak of things that he does not believe need to be spoken of, like his parents death or Howard being in the war. He has never been one to showcase his emotions or feelings, or thoughts.

He has, however, always been adamant that the Bondurant's don't lay down for anyone. Forrest has always known, in his life, what was wrong and what was right; however, the line between right and wrong has become blurred, broken and crossed, repeatedly, in time.

Sometimes, you do the right things for the wrong reasons, or you do the wrong things for the right reasons. There is a guilt accompanied with all that you know, in your heart, was never the right choice. Forrest never truly had the option to make the choice between right and wrong, for most of his life. To him, doing what was right and what was wrong was never that important – what was important was his family, whom he's only ever wanted to protect, help, and keep safe.

Howard, Jack and Maggie are his family and he's determined to protect them until his heart stops beating; not that he sees that day coming anytime soon.

* * *

Maggie keeps her eyes shut, her left hand closed over her wedding ring, and the blankets up over her shoulders as she wills herself to sleep, so that she won't be left alone with her thoughts. She prays that she falls into a peaceful, soft, gentle sleep and that her dreams are filled with light.

As Maggie feels herself falling almost entirely into asleep she sees a house; a farm house and then she sees a light. There is so much light here; it's illuminating everything and everyone. She sees her mother; her beautiful mother, and in her mother's arms she sees him, Thomas. Forrest appears beside Maggie. He looks so happy here; he is actually wearing a small smile, the smallest, on his face.

His eyes are filled with a happiness that Maggie has only seen a few times before. She takes his hand, slowly, and with a smile on her face she moves towards her mother, and Thomas, and Jack and Howard who have just appeared; they are lit up by light, as everything else here is.

Any previous fears that Maggie may have felt disappear now, and she falls asleep peacefully, as she deserves to; in her dreams of her family she is blissfully happy and surrounded by light, the morning light her mother used to speak of, as she so longs to be.

* * *

"Where you been?" Jack calls out; his tone is that of annoyance, and slight anger, as he pulls himself up onto the car seat and closes the door, quickly.

If he hadn't been able to seek shelter from the rain under a friendly passerby's umbrella, Jack would have been dripping with rain.

"Thought you said you was gonna pick me up?" Jack asks, as he removes his hat from his head.

Howard shrugs, and mutters something that Jack doesn't hear, before he pulls the car back out onto the road and turns it in the direction of the Station.

"Was speaking to George Taper; said he seen your car driving in the direction of the Sinclair's property…." Jack announces; as he speaks, he wears a wide grin on his face that he cannot hide.

George Taper also commented on how he'd first seen a young woman, Evelyn Sinclair, getting into Howard's car.

"Mind your own business, Jack." Howard mutters, grumpily; as he speaks, he removes his left hand from the wheel and pulls up a jar of the floor.

Howard unscrews the lid quickly, and then swallows a large amount while still continuing to drive. He is careful to keep his eyes firmly on the road and not at Jack, who continues to gawk at him and wait for an answer.

Jack lets out a small sigh before he asks, "So, you an' Miss Evelyn Sinclair, eh, Howard?"

"Said mind your own goddamn business, Jack." Howard replies, quickly; he tenses up, noticeably, as he speaks, and continues to keep his eyes focused on the road before him and not his brother beside him because if he turns to Jack he'll be tempted to physically shut his mouth so that he will mind his own business.

Despite that it is clearly a warning, for Jack to keep his mouth shut and stop talking of things that do not concern him; Jack does not drop the subject of Evelyn Sinclair so easily.

Jack releases a deep sigh, before he states, "It's a shame, 'bout her brother though."

Jack notices the deeper frown forming on Howard's already creased brow, and he takes this as a sign that Howard does not know what he is talking about in regards to Evelyn's brother.

"Today's the funeral." Jack announces, as though it is common knowledge that Howard should know. Jack continues, with a louder tone, "What- she didn't mention it, when you picked her-"

Howard takes his eyes off of the road completely and turns to look at Jack; his eyes are filled with the same anger that his expression is swirling with. "Shut your mouth, Jack." Howard warns him; his tone is that of a deeply threatening one. "Before I reach over there an' shut it for ya'." he continues; and as Howard says those last words, about shutting Jack's mouth for him, Jack believes him and falls silent.

* * *

Forrest is sitting outside the Station, in the rocking chair he always sits in, when Jack and Howard return from town. They park the car where they usually park it, despite the rain, and move towards the front steps of the station. Jack breaks out into a small, light jog, as his body is still sore from all it has been through. Jack moves as quickly as he can because he doesn't want the new clothes that he is wearing to be dirtied or wrecked by the rain.

Howard does not run from the rain; instead, he embraces it and the soothing coldness as it hits his skin. He walks at a slow, leisurely pace towards the house as though there is no rain falling. The rain doesn't bother him because it's only water and it can't hurt you.

Jack seeks shelter inside the Station, instead of out on the verandah with Forrest; he moves inside and begins looking around for something to eat, or drink.

"Where's Maggie?" Jack asks; he speaks loudly, as he turns around to face Forrest and Howard who have just stepped, almost simultaneously, inside the Station.

"Uhh…Mm…Don't you bother her…Jack….She's restin'…" Forrest answers; his tone is low, but just as threatening as Howard's was in the car.

Howard moves past Forrest, and Jack, and towards the bar where he picks himself up a new, full jar which he'd placed there earlier this morning.

"Oh, I ain't gonna bother her – maybe, I'll go an' bother Howard's woman, see if she'll make us some food since she'll be livin' here soon enough." Jack replies; as he speaks a grin appears on his features, a smile that he cannot and has no intention of hiding.

Howard moves, quickly, before Jack can speak another word about something that is not his goddamn business; Evie isn't his woman, he was simply giving her a lift home.

Howard puts his jar down onto the bench, and in a powerful, quick movement, he pushes Jack; he sends him back, flying, into a row of barstools – Jack stumbles before falling down, completely, onto the floor.

"What the hell you doin' that for, Howard?" Jack calls out, loudly. "Jus' playin', is all…." he mutters; as he speaks he stands from the floor and straightens out his close.

Forrest, who had been still almost glaring at both Howard and Jack because he'd asked them not to bother Maggie since she was resting, remains silent for a moment as he glances between his two brothers.

Howard mutters something low, under his breath, before he turns away from Jack and Forrest and moves towards the jar he'd placed down on the bench moments earlier. He takes it and opens the lid before swallowing a particularly large mouthful of liquor.

Jack, who had begun to fix the chairs that he had knocked over as he'd fallen over, glances up at the doorway and finds Maggie standing at the bottom of the stairs; Jack gulps, as he knows that Forrest isn't going to be happy that Jack woke Maggie.

"Oh, Maggie….Didn't mean to wake you-" Jack begins.

He stops speaking, however, as Maggie smiles softly at him and says, "You didn't wake me, Jack."

Forrest, who had continued to glare at Jack, shifts his gaze ever so slowly towards Maggie, and after taking a step towards he hesitates before he asks, "Uh…..Thought you was….Restin'….?"

"I did, for a while." Maggie replies, honestly.

She did rest, she allowed sleep to take her for a little while, and if she was being completely honest Jack did wake her up but she isn't mad or angry with Jack because she slept, and she was with her family in her dreams and for now that was all that she needed.

Her dreams were always bittersweet; she would enjoy being with her mother, and Thomas, but at the same time she knew truly that it couldn't be real and that it wouldn't last, despite how desperately she had wanted it to.

"You had lunch, yet, Jack? Howard?" Maggie asks; as she speaks she steps away from Howard and moves towards the counter.

Both Jack and Howard are hesitant to answer, because they don't want to anger Forrest by getting Maggie to make them a meal, and Maggie finds that she has to prompt them for an answer.

"You had lunch yet or not?" she asks, again; she continues to wear a small smile on her features as she steps behind the counter and lifts her gaze to glance between Howard and Jack.

"Uh….." Howard mutters, lowly.

"Nah, but we ain't hungry, Maggie…." Jack answers.

Maggie tilts her head slightly to the side before she says, "You, Jack Bondurant, ain't hungry? Well, I don't believe that for a second. Take a seat, you three."

Jack is the first to take a seat, Howard follows him and takes a seat beside him; both place their hats on the bench, and wait, silently, for their meals. Forrest eventually sits down; he moves slowly, and remains silent as he waits, reluctantly, for his meal that he should have been cooking but knows that he cannot convince Maggie Beauford out of doing something once she has her mind made up"

"So, Jack, how's Bertha?" Maggie questions; as she speaks, she fills up four separate mugs with some orange juice.

After taking a large mouthful of orange juice from the mug that Maggie had just placed in front of him moments earlier, Jack answers, "Yeah, she's real good…."

Maggie nods, once, and smiles softly as she suggests, "You'll have to bring 'round again, we'll have a lunch or somethin'."

Jack hesitates before he coughs to clear his throat and mutters, "Uh, yeah, we'll Forrest said…."

Jack does not finish that sentence he is well aware that he shouldn't have mentioned that to Maggie and can now feel Forrest's eyes on him.

The smile only falters on Maggie's face for a moment, then it reappears as she asks, "Forrest said what, Jack?"

Maggie does not look to Forrest as she speaks but rather at Jack, because she is certainly curious to learn what exactly Forrest said and why that would have any connection to Bertha coming over for lunch.

Jack coughs again, several times, before he mutters, with such a low voice, "Might be too busy, 'round here…."

Jack drops his eyes back down to his mug and continues to, silently, stare at the contents.

"It's as busy as it's always been." Maggie says; as she speaks she glances at Forrest, who is as impassive as ever, and then back to Jack. "You bring her 'round here tomorrow, Jack." she tells him, still with a smile.

Jack looks a little uncertain as he finally lifts his gaze to meet Maggie's. He hesitates before turning down, to look at Forrest.

Forrest remains still, and does not speak a word, as he continues to look back down at Jack.

Forrest had told Howard and Jack that while Maggie was healing they should assist her in taking it easy and having a lunch guest over – Maggie won't be taking it easy, she'll be preparing lunch and cooking it, and cleaning the house and it is the opposite of what Forrest had asked Howard and Jack to do.

He'd asked them not to bother Maggie this afternoon when they'd gotten home, because Maggie had been resting for the first time in a long time, and they hadn't listened and that had resulted in her waking.

Maggie, who has in Jack and Forrest's silence decided that Bertha will be coming over tomorrow for lunch, announces, "I'll cook a nice lunch, it'll be good."

Jack nods, slowly, and as he lowers his head again, he says, "Might have to prepare an' extra plate, for Howard's woman."

Jack, again, cannot help the grin that appears and spreads over his face. He knows that he should know better, after how Howard shoved him before, but he cannot help himself bringing it up.

Howard, who had been sitting silently drinking from his jar, turns to Jack and speaks with such a threatening tone that it nearly scares the boots of Jack. "Say that again, Jack, and I'll knock those teeth clean out of your mouth and up into your fuckin' skull."

Jack falls silent know because he does truly believe that his brother may do such a thing when provoked. It's not that Jack is scared of Howard but, at times, Howard can be so unpredictably ruthless and violent and Jack has witnessed that side of him many times and so he knows that when Howard makes a threat there is no doubt that he won't go through with it if provoked.

Jack doesn't mean to anger his brother so; he does this unintentionally. It's just that Jack had, at the beginning when Howard had returned from war, been so uncertain as to act around his brother. His brother hadn't been the same man when he'd returned; too much had changed, too many had died and too much had been witnessed by both Jack and Howard.

Howard had returned almost unrecognizable; he still held some of the same features as when he was younger, such as his eyes which had only become darker from the war, but he came back a different person who would spend as much time as he could drinking and away from his family. Howard had been around the Station much more in the years that had passed, more so in this year.

Perhaps, Jack believed that Howard had been around more because he had witnessed his younger brother's almost dying too many times, and he was staying around so he could better protect them. Perhaps, Howard had stayed around because he'd felt as though he had failed his brothers, and this was his way of making up for what he had failed to do.

Maggie, with a smile on her features, breaks the silence with a soft voice as she says, "Here you are, Howard."

After placing Howard's lunch down in front of him, Maggie then places a plate down in front of Forrest. It only takes her another minute to finish up preparing Jack's lunch, and when it's done she smiles at him and lifts the plate up.

"Here you are, Jack." Maggie begins; she sets the plate down before him and continues, "Eat up, Jack. Use them teeth, while you still got 'em."

As he hears Maggie's words, Howard looks up, a small grin at his face and laughs; he laughs so loudly, as though it is the funniest thing he has heard in quite some time. Even Jack, who had been sulking and slightly embarrassed for a moment after he had been threatened by Howard, manages a laugh.

Maggie lights a cigarette, and rests against the edge of the counter while Howard, Forrest and Jack are eating. They eat in a comfortable silence, until Maggie breaks it.

"When you're done, Forrest…." she begins; she moves behind the counter, now, with the smoke between her lips as she searches for something. "Meet me upstairs." she adds.

Maggie steps out from behind the counter with a bowl of water, a small wash cloth and some fresh bandages.

"Now…." Maggie calls out, as she continues walking towards the doorway. "You boys enjoy your lunch, an' when you're done just leave your plates an' I'll take care of them."

"Thanks, Maggie." Jack calls back; he speaks with a mouth full of food.

Upon noticing this, Howard shoves Jack, almost playfully, sideways, and mutters something about Jack 'never being able to close his goddamn mouth'.

Forrest, after quickly finishing his meal, cleaning his plate, putting the plate back where it belonged and telling Jack and Howard to do the same, walks slowly upstairs towards their bedroom. Upon reaching the door, which he finds is shut entirely; he hesitates before he opens it and steps inside.

Forrest finds sitting, waiting for him, on the edge of their bed. As he'd entered the room he had found her staring, silently, out of the window. As she notices his sudden appearance in the room she is quick to glance away from the window and turn to face him; she wears a small smile on her features, as she stands from the bed.

"Uh…" Forrest grunts; he had considered protesting against Maggie helping him when she was the one who needed to be taken care of, but Forrest has an idea and so he falls silent as he closes the wooden door and moves towards their bed.

"Can you sit on the stool, Forrest? It'll be easier that way." Maggie says, softly.

Forrest stops, briefly, before turning and moving towards the stool. He makes a low, inaudible grunting noise before he lowers himself down on to the stool. Once seated, Forrest begins to remove the dark gray cardigan that sits on top of his long sleeved dark brown and white shirt.

Forrest has removed only one arm from the sleeves of the cardigan when Maggie returns to his side; she removes the cardigan from his other arm without a word before she begins to unbutton his shirt. She starts with the button at the very top of his shirt, the one closest to his throat where light scars from _that_ night still remain.

She works her way down, undoing all of the buttons, and once she is finished she leaves the shirt sitting on him; allowing his arms to still remain in the sleeves as it is quite chilly at the station and Maggie does not wish for Forrest to be cold. If he was cold he wouldn't say a word and so Maggie does not ask, and leaves the shirt as it is.

"Uh…..You weren't hungry?" Forrest asks; as he speaks he lowers his gaze down onto Maggie and watches, silently, as she begins the process of removing the bandages from his body.

"I'll eat later, Forrest." Maggie replies, quickly; she answers without looking back up at Forrest and continues on with removing the bandages ever so slowly and carefully.

"Uh….Mmmm…." Forrest grunts; he continues with a low voice as he says, You ain't…..Sleepin' either….."

Maggie meets Forrest's gaze, momentarily, before she lowers it and continues removing the bandages. "With the time I spend worrying 'bout you, an' your brothers…." she begins; she continues with a softer voice, "I don't have time to worry 'bout myself, an' even if I did, Forrest, there ain't a thing to worry 'bout."

"Uh…." Forrest begins. "Shouldn't be….." he mutters.

"I shouldn't be what, Forrest?" Maggie asks, softly.

Maggie, who has just finished removing all of the bandages from Forrest's chest, lifts the damp, wet cloth to his chest and begins to gently and carefully clean the wounds and the area around them.

Forrest mutters, lowly, "Mmm….Worried….We're Bondurants."

Maggie does not lift her gaze to meet Forrest despite that he is continuing to watch her. She remains silent for quite some time as she is considering Forrest's words and how she will answer that.

"I know, Forrest. Bondurants don't die." Maggie replies; there is pain, in that statement, as she speaks because it isn't true and she can never believe that it is true after she almost lost all three brothers. "It ain't true, though. It's just a damn legend. You, an' your brothers almost died, Forrest….."

Forrest hesitates before he says, "Uh….We can take….uh…."

"Take care of yourselves?" Maggie asks; she finishes Forrest's sentence, and as she speaks she places the wash cloth down into the bowl as she is done with it.

She picks up a dry cloth and begins drying Forrest's skin, so that the bandages will stick properly.

"Mmmm…." Forrest murmurs.

Maggie doesn't hesitate to answer, "Don't know if you forgot, Forrest, but I'm a Bondurant too, an' I can take care of myself."

Forrest is silent for a moment, before he says, "I ain't forgot…Jus' sayin'….There ain't no reason for you to worry, Maggie."

Maggie answers, simply, "I'm always gonna worry, Forrest, 'bout you and your brothers. An' there ain't a thing that'll change that."

"Maggie…." Forrest begins. "Uh…..Mmm….You ain't eatin' much, lately…."

Maggie nods once at this before she replies, "I'm alright, Forrest."

"Mmmm….." Forrest grunts; he hesitates before he continues, "Uh…mmm…You ain't…..At dinner, you don't sit with us….."

He stops, briefly, before he adds, "At the table."

Maggie does not respond to Forrest's words and she does not look up to meet his gaze; instead, she begins to gently place clean, dry bandages on his wounds. She is careful not to hurt him as she cannot imagine the pain he must still be feeling after enduring and surviving such a thing as he did.

Maggie believes that if she does not respond to Forrest's previous words, he will not continue and they will not have to speak in such things. But Maggie is wrong, and Forrest does continue.

"Mmm….'Cause…Oliver?" he mutters.

Maggie replies, simply, "I ain't gonna talk 'bout him, Forrest."

Despite what she is truly feeling inside, Maggie continues to hold the same impassive expression that she had worn for their entire conversation. Maggie is tired; she's tired of arguing with Forrest, or thinking of Oliver, and she is tired of Forrest attempting to convince her that she is a better person than she truly is.

Forrest remains silent for quite some time, before he finally speaks and says, "Uh….Maggie….."

Maggie, who has just finished bandaging Forrest's chest, picks up the bowl of water and the bandages she will dispose of.

"You don't want to talk 'bout this, or anythin' else for that matter, Forrest…." she says, as she moves towards the door. She hesitates before she turns back to face Forrest and tells him, "An' I really don't…Don't feel like you have to….'Cause you don't."

* * *

**Hi there! I'd like to start by apologizing for the lateness in updates. I'm going to try really hard to work on it and update sooner.**

**I hope that you all had great holidays, and I hope that you enjoy this new chapter.  
I know that this chapter is a little slow and there isn't an awful lot of action and/or drama and etc. but I just started writing this chapter and this was where it took me and I do hope you enjoy it and don't find it terribly boring. It's a little shorter than my others, but it felt right to end it where I did and I promise that things won't be as 'slow' in future chapters. And that there is indeed happiness, and lots of it, waiting for Maggie, Forrest, Howard and Jack.**

**Anyway, I just wanted to thank those of you who continue to read my story. You're all amazing, and I am very grateful for it. Thanks to the followers/favouriters too. You're equally as awesome, and I'm just as grateful.**

**Dear Guest who posted on chapter 2; 1/1/13  
Thank you very much, it means so much to read you love my story and you think I've nailed the characters. Thank you for such lovely words, I hope you have a great day. x**

**Enjoy this new chapter and have a nice day.**

**P.s I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors you may find. I do search thoroughly for them but I always miss some, so please let me know if you see any - thank you and thanks for reading.**


	11. A heavy choice to make

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I own only the O/C characters and ideas created of this story.**

* * *

When Forrest wakes in the morning from a restless and an almost impossible sleep he finds that the place beside him, where Maggie should be, is empty. The room is lit up in a dull orange morning light that has already seeped through the windows and soaked onto the walls and the floor. As he continues to lie on his back Forrest can hear movement downstairs and as his eyelids close, for a moment, he can almost picture Maggie downstairs; her orange curls bouncing as she'd move around the station smiling and greeting customers, a cigarette resting between her red lips as she'd refill mugs of coffee and serve breakfast.

He can almost imagine her sitting by the window, after the rush of customers had passed, sitting and eating her own breakfast in peace while staring out into the distance. He'd found her like that, a few times, in some sort of daze by the window and he hadn't been entirely sure what it was she had been staring out at. Perhaps, he had considered she was reliving a memory or thinking of the future but now Forrest was almost certain that she would've been thinking about her past.

Before his eyes he can see her; Maggie, looking as beautiful as he'd ever seen her, on their wedding day. She's smiling at him in the memory that plays on the back of his eyelids; she was so incredibly happy and he was so happy too. It was a moment in his life that Forrest would surely never be able to forget, just as he was certain that there was absolutely no possibility that he would ever forget Maggie if she were to leave him – but that was never going to happen. She wasn't going to leave him and he was never going to leave her and it was as simple as that.

Forrest pulls himself, slowly, up and out of their bed and releases a small sigh as he feels a pain, that which he will not speak of nor confirm to another, in his stomach. The Doctor had told him in the weeks, even the months, to come that he would still be sore and in pain and that in time he would heal. Forrest was about done with healing; he was sick of it. He hated feeling this way, as though he was useless or not as physical well or strong as he was before he'd been hit with all of those bullets.

He often finds himself thinking of the events of the shoot-out, at the bridge. He often recalls the memories and when he does he finds that they, strangely enough, do not feel like memories to him but rather it feels as though Forrest is reliving each moment, each of his brother's cries, each gunshot and each bullet.

Forrest regrets few things because if a man regrets too many things, he starts thinking of all the things he did wrong and those thoughts hold enough power to send a man mad, like Howard. Now, Forrest doesn't think that his brother is absolutely and entirely mad. But he does believe that Howard, after everything that he'd been through in the war and everything he'd been through when he'd gotten back home, regretted too much and allowed himself to be buried by the blame, guilt and all he'd believed he'd ever done wrong and those thoughts were enough to push Howard into the state that he had been in since his return.

Howard wasn't mad but he wasn't the man he once was. Forrest was not one to judge a man and he would certainly never judge Howard.

There are things a man chooses to keep to himself and then there are things that a man has no other choice, no other option, but to keep to himself. Forrest is a man who keeps both sorts to himself. He keeps everything to himself because it's better that way and he has no intention of changing what he does or does not keep to himself.

When Howard returned from the war he was a different man. He was almost unrecognizable to Jack but he wasn't to Forrest; he could still see his brother underneath the disheveled hair, the gaunt features of his face, the empty bloodshot eyes and the stench of alcohol that followed him everywhere he roamed. And he roamed quite a bit; he tried to distant himself from his brothers as much as was possible.

One thing that never changed about Howard was his hatred of being treated differently by someone because they felt sympathy towards him. When all the brothers were much younger, before their parents died from the influenza and before Howard went away to war, an incident occurred between Jack, Howard and Forrest which was never spoken of again.

It was a warm afternoon when Howard and Forrest were trying to teach Jack to shoot the sow. Jack was incredibly nervous; he was sweating profusely and was almost in tears. Howard had become frustrated several times and had attempted to take the rifle from Jack and be done with it all. But Forrest, who had remained calm, had stopped Howard each time and insisted that it was something that Jack needed to do.

As Jack readied the rifle he'd aimed it at the pig; but he'd been so nervous and wasn't holding the rifle right so as he'd fired it off it went in the direction of Howard and Forrest; the gun had grazed the top of Howard's foot causing him to yelp out in pain.

Jack's, Howard's and Forrest's father was a kind man. He was a good-hearted, respected, hard-working man whom they all respected so very much. But, he was also a proud man and having already been so proud of Howard and Forrest for doing what Jack had failed to, Howard had known his father would have been disappointed in Jack and being his older brother Howard did what he believed was the best thing for Jack.

When Jack and Forrest pulled Howard up to the house, with his right foot bleeding badly, Forrest had told his father how Howard had 'accidently' fired the rifle and shot himself in the foot. They'd called the doctor, who had fixed it up and things had been left as they were.

Their father had laughed about it, but afterwards no one ever spoke of it again because their father, and mama, felt it best not to cause Howard further embarrassment.

While his foot was mending Howard was slower and crankier than usual and he'd been adamant that no one treat him any differently because of his injury. So, when Howard had returned from the war, not bearing any physical injuries or scars that his brothers could see Jack hadn't thought that his brother had been badly injured but Jack was wrong. Howard was mentally scarred.

Forrest had found himself in a similar situation to the incident when they were children, and so he had been determined to treat Howard as he always had because he'd believed that if he were to treat Howard any differently he might only get worse.

Forrest knew that he couldn't treat Howard just as he used to but he let Howard believe that he was doing just that. He led Howard to believe that he was treating him the same by making him pay his debts, and treating him just as he treated Jack – no special treatment. But Forrest had always, since Howard had returned, viewed him differently and treated him a little differently. He couldn't stop Howard from drinking until he passed out, which was most nights, because he knew that was how his brother was fighting his demons.

Howard had been battling his demons since he returned and Forrest wasn't sure how long he would continue to do so or how he could help. Forrest kept an eye out on Howard. He'd involved Howard so much in the business because it was something that Howard enjoyed doing and it was something he was very good at.

Forrest keeps to himself his worries of Howard, Jack and Maggie, and he always will because it's truly better and easier that way. He will always look out for them because it's who he is and it's something that he always has and always will do.

* * *

Maggie had woken early, this morning, and after lying in bed without finding sleep again she had silently moved from their bed and had left to wash herself and to change into a light red, almost pink, long sleeved blouse and a long dark brown skirt. After changing she had gone downstairs to find Howard hunched over the bench with several empty jars scattered over the counter.

Maggie sighs upon catching sight of Howard; she moves towards the kitchen and intentionally bangs a pot against a spoon so that she will wake Howard from his sleep. And this does wake him; he jumps up, so very quickly, and his eyes dart around the room as he attempts to determine where exactly he is, how he came to be here, and what woke him from his sleep.

But he wasn't really sleeping, Maggie knew that. It was more likely that he had passed out at the bar as he had done in so many nights before and would continue to do so in nights to come.

"Oh, sorry, Howard…..I didn't mean to wake you." Maggie says, innocently and with a small, warm smile, as she places the pot down before Howard will see it and moves so that she is standing across from him.

Howard makes a low, inaudible grunting sound in response as he, momentarily, buries his head in his hands. When he lifts his head he finds Maggie standing before him, a freshly lit smoke resting between her lips which have been painted with red lipstick.

His eyes linger on the faded bruises and the cuts on her face which Maggie has made absolutely no attempt in hiding. The only make-up she wears is her red lipstick. She does not seem bothered upon noticing Howard's lingering gaze on her cuts. She hadn't attempted to cover the cuts because she didn't truly see the point in it. The scars were still there, on the inside, so really what was the point on covering them on the outside?

"Didn't make it upstairs last night?" Maggie asks; she speaks with a casual tone, as she begins moving around behind the bench.

When she only needs to use her right hand, she allows the smoke to rest between her index and middle finger on her left hand. When she needs to use both hands, she allows the smoke to rest between her lips which stay pressed together.

Howard shrugs and makes another low grunting noise. As he meets her gaze, Maggie notices a sight that is not new to her; his eyes are incredibly red and bloodshot and as she sees this she can hear her words from the previous day replaying in her head. Her words about always worrying for Howard, Jack and Forrest; she will always worry about them because she cares about them so much and they are her family and you cannot simply stop worrying about family.

Maggie looks up from the coffee she had just poured for Howard towards the verandah where she'd heard footsteps. It takes Howard a moment to hear these footsteps as his head is pounding and even as he does hear them he does not turn around because he knows without a single shred of doubt that it cannot be Oliver at the door and so he does not care much for whomever it is.

Probably the preacher's daughter Bertha, coming early to lunch, Howard assumes. A small smile creeps up on his features as he remembers how much pleasure he'd gained by Jack's reaction to him calling Bertha Betty. Perhaps, at today's lunch if he attends he'll 'accidently' call Bertha Betty just to see Jack's reaction, which will no doubt cause him to erupt into laughter as it always does.

"Hi, can I help you?" Maggie asks, as the door creeps open and the woman who had been standing on the verandah comes into view.

Her dark brown hair is wavy and reaches her shoulders. She is dressed in a short sleeved dark brown and white dress, patterned with flowers, that reaches her ankles. She smiles, upon catching sight of Maggie, and takes another slow step towards her.

"My name is Evie Sinclair. I'm here to talk to Howard." she says; her voice is soft, and kind, as she speaks.

Howard, who hadn't been paying any attention as he'd believed it to just be a customer coming for some breakfast, turns around in his chair, slowly, to face Evie. She smiles as he turns to face her but does not take another step forward.

Howard stands so quickly from the bar stool that his leg gets caught on the side of it and he almost trips over. However, Evie doesn't take any notice of this and Maggie had turned away, giving the two their privacy.

"Uh….." Howard begins; his voice is low, and Evie only just manages to hear his words as he continues, "What're…..Doin' here….?"

"You weren't lookin' hard enough, so I came lookin' for you." she answers, with a small smile.

Howard frowns, ever so slightly, before he sighs and takes a slow step towards Evie.

"I, uh….I…." he begins, but then stops entirely as he isn't sure what to say next.

"Can we talk, outside, Howard?" Evie suggests.

Howard hesitates before he replies, "Uhh…..OK."

Maggie turns around now, and calls out, with a smile, "It was lovely meeting you, Evie."

"It was lovely meeting you, too….." Evie begins but stops, as she realizes she doesn't know her name.

"Maggie." she replies, softly.

"Lovely meeting you, Maggie." Evie repeats.

She smiles once more at Maggie, before she moves towards the door and follows a stiff, and slightly awkward, moving Howard.

"Uh….." Howard mutters. "What're you….Here….For?" he asks, with a low tone still.

"I wanted to apologize, Howard." Evie admits.

As they speak, they walk side by side away from the station and down towards Evelyn's car. This way, Jack won't be eavesdropping and talking of things that aren't his concern or his business.

The frown on Howard's creased brow deepens but he stays silent as he waits for Evie to continue and explain what she is apologizing for.

"Yesterday….I wasn't….Honest, with you." Evie admits. "An' I'm sorry…." she adds.

Howard nods, once, very slowly before he mutters, "It…Don't bother me…."

A silence falls between Howard and Evie; a silence that Howard has no idea how to fill, and a silence that Evie wishes they hadn't fallen into. Howard's acting strange, and she doesn't have a clue as to why he is acting this way.

Evie speaks, finally, with a soft, caring voice, "You alright, Howard?"

"Uh….Yea…." he coughs, to clear his throat.

"Evelyn?" Maggie, who had stepped out onto the verandah, calls out.

Evie and Howard's heads turn simultaneously towards Maggie, who is standing on the top stairs with a small smile on her features. Evie smiles back at Maggie, but Howard does not. He stands still, and silent, and with an unreadable and complicated expression on his features.

"Evie, please call me Evie." she insists.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Evie. Would you like to stay for lunch? Won't be for a while…..But we've got plenty." Maggie suggests; she glances briefly at Howard before she directs her gaze back towards Evie.

Evie hesitates, before she answers, softly, "Oh….That's real nice, Maggie, but….Don't want to impose-"

"You wouldn't be." Maggie reassures her, with a warm voice and a gentle smile.

Evie shakes her head, slowly, still, despite Maggie's reassuring words and kind smile.

"I'm real busy today, Maggie. But – thank you." Evie says; as she speaks she turns, to glance up at Howard. "I'm…. Should be leavin', now." she tells him; she speaks in a much lower tone, and with a small, sad smile.

"Uh….." Howard begins; he stops to clear his throat by coughing twice, and then continues. "Mmm…Alright, Evie….." he mutters.

"See you 'round, Howard." Evie says, with a smile, as she moves towards her car.

Howard nods once and makes a low grunting noise but does not speak. Instead, he watches silently as Evie gets into her car and, eventually, drives away. Howard isn't sure what it was that Evie wasn't honest with him about yesterday but it doesn't matter to him – it's not that he doesn't care because he does, but if she wasn't entirely honest with him then she must have had her reasons to do so and he's fine leaving those things unsaid.

* * *

Maggie looks up from the mug of coffee she had just poured for herself to find Forrest, wandering down, slowly, into the kitchen. He's dressed in a pair of dark slacks with the faintest white stripes, a striped gray and green button up shirt with a dark navy blue vest on top. He holds his brown hat in his hands as he steps towards the bench, and as he reaches it he places his hat down onto it but he does not take a seat.

"Mornin' Forrest." Maggie says; she smiles at him, softly, before she places a freshly poured mug of coffee down on the bench, in front of an empty seat.

Forrest remains silent as he continues to watch Maggie; she stands, with her orange curls, with a smile on her features and a cigarette resting between her red lips. She removes the cigarette, exhales the smoke and continues on with tending to things behind the bench.

Maggie is almost just as Forrest had imagined her to be moments earlier as he'd rested in their bed. But he wasn't convinced that she was as fine as she was pretending that she was.

He takes a seat down on one of the many empty bar-stools and drinks from the mug of coffee. Maggie continues moving around behind the bench until she has finally cooked up a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and a few orange slices.

Maggie places the plate down before Forrest on the bench just as Howard swings the front doors open and stomps inside towards the bench where he finds Forrest now sitting. He waits until he is up near the bench, and standing across from Maggie, before he speaks.

"What were ya' doin', out there?" he asks her; despite that he had tried not to raise his voice he does.

Forrest stiffens up, noticeably, at Howard's slightly raised tone as Forrest does not want to hear another man talking to Maggie with such a tone but he does not speak yet but rather lets Howard continue so that he may attempt to explain himself and explain why he is speaking in such a manner towards Maggie.

"What do you mean, Howard?" Maggie replies, quickly; she puts out her cigarette and looks up to meet Howard's gaze.

"What the hell you go an' do that for?" Howard questions; he continues with a louder tone, "Messin' 'round in business that ain't none of your concern."

Forrest stands up from the stool as Howard finishes speaking and turns, ever so slightly, so that he is looking at Howard.

"Howard….." Forrest mutters; he speaks his brother's name so that it will force Howard to turn and look at him because, at the current moment, Howard had not been looking at his brother.

Howard does turn to look at Forrest; he turns reluctantly, and slowly, and once he meets Forrest's gaze he waits for him to speak.

"Mmm….." Forrest begins; "That ain't no way to talk to a woman, Howard….Uh….You know better….." he says; his voice is low so that only Howard will hear his words.

Howard lowers his gaze from Forrest and does not look directly at Maggie or Forrest as he mutters, "Ah…..Mmm…"

Howard hesitates slightly before he steps away, entirely, from the bench and moves towards the front doors; he carries his hat in his hands until he steps out onto the verandah and once outside he places the hat firmly onto his head and begins walking off towards one of the sheds near the back of the house, where he always keeps a few jars.

He'll come back to the Station, in a little while but not just yet. For now, he just wants to walk and have a drink and remove Evie from his thoughts just for a little while. He didn't intend to come off as rude, or that something was wrong, in his earlier conversation with Evie.

Howard doesn't understand why he feels the way he does towards Evie; he doesn't understand his feelings towards her and why she is the only woman ever to cause him to feel such things. When they are together, he is nervous at first but that quickly disappears when she smiles. Her smile, or her laughter, always seems to ease and calm his nerves and soon enough he forgets his previous nerves and he enjoys her company.

Not that he has spent much time in her company but it's been enough for him to know that he does enjoy spending time with her and when they part ways, a part of him wishes that they weren't or that they could spend more time together. Howard doesn't know what it is about Evie that first captured his attention.

Howard hasn't met a girl like Evie, one he felt – he doesn't know what he feels towards her and he doesn't know why he feels these things. Sure, there have been women in the past – but Howard has never felt any connections to them whatsoever, and if he's being honest there really haven't been that many women. He never sees them again, afterwards, and never seeing them again doesn't bother Howard as he never really cared for them.

Howard has never really cared about anyone except for his family, including those who are no longer with him. In the past years, Howard has only cared about Forrest and Jack, and in these past months he'd come to care for Maggie, and now Evie.

He didn't intend to speak to Maggie as he did. He's quite aware that he never should have spoken to her in such a manner after all that she had been through these past months. Howard hates, with such a strong passion, men who speak to women with disrespect or physically harm them. Howard had spoken to Maggie, this morning, with a slight disrespect and for that he was sorry and he would apologize afterwards when he returned to the station.

He knew that Maggie meant absolutely no harm and that she was only being polite and kind, as she always was. She had been different lately, Howard could see that clearly; he could see how she was trying to pretend that all the pieces were still stuck firmly together when in reality they weren't but he didn't say anything because he not only didn't know how to but he didn't know whether Maggie would want to speak of such things. And so, Howard had just let things be.

Despite how much he cared for Maggie, and wanted her to get better, he didn't try to talk to her about it because he figured that she would have needed time and that when she was ready to speak of such things she would.

Howard wasn't a very big talker when it was in regards to personal or emotional things; he _never_ spoke of such things and never had the intention to do so willingly because he didn't want to speak of them. He knew that Forrest was, in a way, like him; he too didn't speak of these things because he too believe that they were better left as they were and there was no point in causing trouble when you could simply let things be.

Howard and his brothers had left so many things unsaid and they would leave these things unspoken because they didn't see the point in speaking of them when they would only cause trouble and there would be no real achievement that would come of speaking of them. Sure, they remembered them; each and every detail of everything left 'forgotten' or locked away, and those things would never and could never truly leave them.

* * *

Maggie had, after serving Jack and Forrest their breakfast, tidied the station and begun preparing all that they would need for lunch. It was only going to be a simple lunch, like last time; some sandwiches, fruit and other items of food which Jack had enthusiastically and repeatedly told Maggie that Bertha enjoyed eating.

It was odd not having Howard there for breakfast; Maggie could almost imagine him sitting beside Jack, teasing him or asking whether he ever shut his mouth. Maggie knew just as Jack and Forrest knew that Howard was, most of the time, only playing with Jack so to get a reaction. But there were often times when Howard was not in a particularly good mood and was serious about Jack shutting his mouth.

These moods usually came after Howard spent days on the stump whiskey and Maggie had learnt, just as Jack and Forrest had learnt after Howard had first started drinking, not to bother Howard in these moods and that they would fade away soon enough.

Maggie looks up to see Howard standing in the open doorway. She hadn't even heard him open the front doors. He steps through the doors and lets them fall and shut by themselves as he takes another, slower, step inside.

In all of the time that Maggie has known Howard she has never been afraid of him or scared; despite that he is a tall, physically well-built man who always looms down, over her. Despite how small she often feels in comparison to his great height, Maggie has never once felt afraid or intimidated. She did not fear him as he yelled at Oliver but she rather felt such respect and love towards him for protecting her in a moment when she felt frozen and incapable of standing up for herself.

Maggie has never been scared of Howard when he yells at Jack, or swears at him, or when he is just generally in an angry or bad mood. And this morning, when Howard had raised his voice at her Maggie hadn't been scared.

She knows it was not her place to invite Evie to lunch without speaking with Howard first. Maggie knew that she shouldn't have and she had planned to apologize to Howard upon his arrival back home.

"Howard," Maggie sighs, softly, as she looks up to meet his gaze.

She steps out from behind the bench, with a cigarette resting between her index and middle finger on her left hand, and moves towards the table that she had set up inside the station for lunch.

"Ah…..I-" Howard begins, he stops and hesitates before he eventually continues, "Uh….I'm sorry, 'bout….."

"It's alright, Howard." Maggie assures him before he even finishes his sentence.

Maggie doesn't need an apology from Howard because he didn't do anything wrong and she believe she truly has no reason to apologize for her.

Howard sighs, before he begins to spin his hat in his hands. He eventually says, "Uh….Ain't right of me to have…."

"It's alright, Howard. It really is." Maggie says; she stops as she turns to face him. "I'm the one who should be sayin' sorry….Shouldn't have involved myself in your business."

"You ain't done nothin' wrong." Howard says, loudly; he speaks these words confidently because he does truly believe that Maggie didn't do anything wrong.

She was only being her polite, kind self and there's nothing wrong with that. Howard should have thought before he spoke to her the way he did. He shouldn't have gotten so angry at her when it wasn't her fault that he was confused about his feelings – confused about everything.

"Alright….." Maggie begins. "So, neither of us did a thing wrong. Let's leave it at that." Maggie says; as she speaks she smiles, kindly, at Howard.

* * *

Maggie finishes preparing and getting everything ready for lunch just as Bertha arrives. As Jack's car pulls up, Maggie readjusts her shirt so as to neaten it again before she steps out onto the verandah joining Forrest and Howard who are both, already, holding their hats in their hands.

After pulling the car to a stop, Jack jumps out and runs around to Bertha's side of the car. He opens it for her and smiles as she gets out. Bertha walks towards the station, with Jack by her side, in a yellow and blue dress. She smiles warmly at Forrest, Howard and Maggie; and just as she did last time, she greets them with a handshake.

Howard, Jack and Forrest sit outside, on the verandah, enjoying the warm sun while Bertha steps in side, after Maggie does and while Maggie finishes what little she must do before lunch, she and Bertha talk. The two women talk about many, many things; their laughter can be heard out on the verandah and while Jack is tempted to go in he doesn't because Forrest forbids him from it. Forrest tells Jack, and he says this only once, that it would be good for Maggie and Bertha to spend some time together and he leaves it at that.

Bertha offers to help several times, just as she did on her last visit her. Maggie refuses, like last time, ensuring her that she is almost finished with what she needs to do. Maggie calls out to the boys that lunch is ready, and they all come in eager for the meal. As Howard catches sight of lunch it causes his stomach to growl and he is reminded that he did not eat his breakfast this morning or eat much the previous night.

Maggie takes her seat down to the right of Forrest, and thanks Bertha who compliments her on how deliciously wonderful the lunch looks and how she cannot wait to take a bite.

Maggie and Bertha continue to speak through lunch, only stopping when Howard brings up a story he has just remembered from Jack's childhood; these stories are _always_ embarrassing and nearly always cause Jack to blush a bright red.

Bertha simply laughs, though, and then she softly tells Jack to laugh and to smile and he does, and his spirits are lifted immediately and he falls back into a good mood. This good mood only lasts until Howard brings up yet another story and then the process is repeated.

Forrest remains the most silent throughout lunch; he does speak, occasionally, to make conversation with Bertha since she is the guest and he would find it to be rude if he did not speak to her. Aside from a few other words here and there, he does not speak all that much.

And then, Jack does what Jack nearly always does; he thinks of a comeback to Howard's stories, and brings up the topic of Howard's 'woman'.

"Since you're so talkative….." Jack begins; as he speaks he glances from Howard to Maggie then to Forrest and then Bertha. "Why don't you talk 'bout your woman, what's her name?"

Howard tenses up, noticeably, and the smile that had rested on his features disappears instantly. His gaze, which is unwavering, meets Jack and holds his. It's almost as if Howard is warning Jack not to speak about something that isn't his business or his concern but Jack doesn't get the warning and he continues.

"Evelyn Sinclair, was it? She's real pretty, Forrest." Jack says; he turns his gaze from Howard to Forrest. Then he looks back to Howard and states, "Funny that she's interested in a man like you, ain't it?"

Maggie glances from Bertha to Howard, who is now avoiding all but Jack's gaze.

"Man like me?" Howard asks; his voice is low, but it isn't so low that Maggie and Forrest can't recognize the madness they can hear ringing in it. "Meanin' what, Jack?" he questions.

Jack, who is still slightly annoyed with Howard for bringing up such embarrassing stories of him as a younger boy, remains silent as he isn't quite sure how to continue.

"Meanin' that a man like me ain't good enough for a woman like her?" Howard asks.

Jack shakes his head; he flashes a small smile to Bertha, who is no longer smiling, before he turns back to Howard and mutters, "Not what I meant, Howard."

Howard, who is fighting the urge to slap Jack in the face, asks with a slightly madder tone, "What'd ya' mean, then, Jack?"

Jack can hear the madness in Howard's voice and see it in his bloodshot eyes. He's wearing an expression on his face that Jack has seen many times before – Howard usually wears this expression right before he snaps, and whenever Howard snaps or breaks it's always bad.

"I meant…. I-I-I didn't-" Jack begins; he's clearly more nervous, now, as he only wished to annoy and embarrass Howard as Howard had been doing to him all throughout lunch. He hadn't wanted to provoke this sort of response or to cause his brother to think that he wasn't good enough for Evelyn.

"Howard." Forrest says, simply and that's all he says.

Forrest, simply, saying Howard's name is enough to cause Howard to snap out of whatever thoughts or ideas were going through his mind and to return to how he was moments earlier.

Maggie breaks the tense silence by talking to Bertha, about what a lovely dress she was wearing and what beautiful clothes she has and where she purchased them. Forrest glances briefly at Maggie, and nods ever so slightly as to thank her for making things with Bertha a little less tense.

Howard turns his neck, slowly, and leans in a little closer to Jack, but noticeably, so that he may tell Jack something that no one else will hear. "Soon as Betty, here, is gone….." Howard begins.

Forrest had noticed Howard lean in so he could speak to Jack, and Forrest had no doubt that Howard would be muttering a threat to Jack and so he didn't attempt to hear as he was certain he'd find out later from either Jack or Howard.

Howard continues, with a lower tone, "You're gonna see how a bullet in your foot feels, an' I'll let you know, Jack, it ain't a fuckin' pleasing feeling."

As he finishes speaking Howard leans back in his chair leisurely and knocks Jack in the back of the head 'playfully'. A smirk creeps up onto Howards face as he does this, and he stays, leaning back, resting in his chair. He isn't going to shoot Jack but he finds some pleasure in watching Jack panic and sweat, and think that Howard may actually put a bullet in his foot because Jack does believe that his brother would do such a thing.

As Howard looks around at those at the table, he feels a strange emptiness; like someone is missing. He sighs and runs his right hand through his slightly knotted hair. Howard thinks that it is better this way because he won't disappoint Evie, or hurt her or let her down. And, if he never really has her then he can never really lose her.

But what Howard isn't currently aware of, and what Forrest has always known, is that you can lose things that you do not have and that which you hold can feel as though you have it but truly you don't.

* * *

**A/N: Hi there! Thank you to everyone who takes the time out of their lives to read this story. I really do, truly, appreciate it and I'm not sure how I can thank you all enough. Sorry that the length of this chapter isn't as long as previous ones - It just felt right to me to end it as I did.**

**Also, a big thanks to the followers and favouriters. Thank you very much for reading.**

_**Dear Guest reviewer; who posted on chapter 10;**_

_**Wow, thank you! That's so kind of you to say. I am so relieved that you thought that they were great chapters. Thank you so much. I know, this chapter wasn't much in terms of development or happiness between Evie and Howard, or Maggie and Forrest, but they'll get there in the end. Thank you, and I do hope you enjoy this chapter.**_

**I apologise in advance for any grammatical errors you may stumble upon - I do hope there are none, but if by chance there are please let me know. I do read over the chapters quite thoroughly before I upload them but I almost always miss something.**

**OH, and for Christmas I was given The Wettest County In The World and I am currently reading it - How good is it? If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend that you do.**

**I hope you enjoy this. Thanks for taking the time to read it.**

**:)**


	12. Now I am under all

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I own only the O/C characters and ideas created of this story.**

* * *

Howard sits slightly hunched over, on a bar stool at the bar, swallowing large mouthfuls from a half full jar of liquor. The winds of the dark night continue to howl loudly outside of the station, occasionally scratching on the windows causing Howard, for reasons unsure to him, to slightly jump up at the sound.

Aside from the one light lit Howard sits almost entirely in the dark room by himself, drinking. This is how he spends most of his nights. If he doesn't spend his night inside the station, drinking, then he spends it out in the shed where he drinks until he passes out and wakes in the morning light.

A few more moments of silence pass Howard before he soon hears the creaking of the floorboards behind him. He assumes that these footsteps belong to Forrest who must be coming down to have a drink because it surely wouldn't be Jack coming down. Jack wouldn't be coming down after lunch.

Maggie's voice is soft and surprising to Howard as she steps towards him and asks, "Couldn't sleep, either?"

He sits up a little straighter now at the sound of her voice and pauses before he cranes his neck so that he may better see Maggie. She walks towards him with slightly messy orange curls, from her failed attempt at finding sleep, wearing her light orange dressing robe. As she moves so that she is standing across from Howard his eyes unintentionally flicker over the faded bruises and cuts on her face. As he takes in each detail of them he cannot help but feel the guilt accompanied with such a sight.

He feels guilty at his inability to help her, his failure to protect her, and this guilt that Howard feels only worsens as he sees Maggie pretending as though such things never occurred and that all as is it once was.

"Mmm…." Howard grunts, lowly; as he answers he looks away from Maggie quickly so as to not cause her to feel insecure about her wounds or be reminded about them.

Maggie pauses before she asks, "You alright, Howard?"

She had been worrying and thinking about Howard and how he would be feeling after what had happened at lunch, after all that Jack had said and all that he hadn't meant to say. The fact that Howard had disappeared as soon as lunch was over and had not returned for dinner had only caused Maggie more worry over him.

Maggie hadn't been able to find sleep upstairs. She had turned over slowly and had found Forrest resting with his eyes closed and she hadn't known if he had been sleeping or not but Maggie had not wanted to wake him because she believed that he needed his rest and he needed to recover.

She was right when she had told Forrest that absolutely nothing could or would ever stop her from worrying about the three of them. They were her family, they were all that she had, and she cared about them so greatly. You could not simply stop worrying about family despite how hard you tried not to care, you always would. You couldn't simply convince yourself to not worry because not worrying is an impossible thing to do.

Howard nods once, in response to Maggie's question, before he lifts his right hand to the left side of his head and scratches at the side of his head. He lets out a low sigh before he lowers his gaze down towards the jars in front of him.

Maggie moves slowly behind the counter and reaches for the empty jars resting on the bar. She takes the jars and places them down onto the bench. She'll fix them up in the morning, she decides. Maybe, she'll wash them out and put jam or something inside of them. As she returns to where Howard is seated she finds that he is looking up at her with an expression of curiosity and almost suspicion.

He is watching her with slight suspicion as he wonders whether she is considering taking his jars away from him. Howard knows that Maggie means well. She cares about him. But, they're his jars and it's not her place to take them away from him when he hasn't finished with them.

Maggie pauses before she says, "I ain't gonna take your jars away from you, Howard."

"But…." she begins; as she speaks she lifts her gaze to meet his. "I'd like it very much if you'd come upstairs for the night…And get some sleep." she says; she wears a soft smile on her features as she speaks.

Howard frowns deeply upon hearing Maggie's words. He considers for a moment answering her but then quickly decides against it and so he remains silent and unmoving on the stool.

It's relatively early, into the night, and Howard usually continues to drink for hours upon hours before he even considers going upstairs to bed and the thought of sleeping now isn't particularly appealing to Howard at the moment and he has no intention of doing so right now.

"Howard?" Maggie asks, softly.

As she speaks she moves out from behind the bar and steps towards him so that she is standing behind him, and the stool that he is seated on. She finds that he looks tired, exhausted, and his eyes are already red as they are most days.

"Uh…." Howard coughs. "Night, Maggie." He mutters, in a much lower tone.

Howard isn't interested in going to bed yet. He wants to continue doing what he always does; he wants to drink for as long as he wants and as much as he wants.

Maggie releases a small sigh. She had some hope that Howard may take her up on this offer and fall to sleep instead of drinking himself into an unconscious state. She steps towards Howard and places a quick, gently kiss on his left cheek.

"Good night, Howard." she whispers.

As Maggie slowly makes her way up the staircase towards her bedroom she has to rely on the moonlight, which flickers through the windows, to guide her upstairs as she did not turn on any lights upon venturing downstairs as she did not wish to wake Forrest or Jack up from their sleeps.

Upon reaching her bedroom door Maggie slowly pushes it open and as she does she nearly jumps out of her skin entirely as she comes to view an unmoving figure standing in the darkness of the doorway.

A low, piercing scream which Maggie had held absolutely no control of whatsoever passes her lips and she gasps as she takes a step back from the figure. She finds that her hands, which are trembling slightly, are covering her mouth before she had realized that they had moved from her side.

Maggie's chest heaves in and out slightly. She jumps at the sound of a glass dropping and smashing into shards downstairs. This sound echoes through the once silent house. The figure before her steps out of the shadows quickly and into a flicker of the moonlight and reveals himself to be Forrest.

Howard's booming voice travels through the house as he moves loudly downstairs, knocking over stools as he scrambles to move towards the stairs. "Maggie?!" he yells out.

As he stands before Maggie, Forrest, who already wears a frown on his features, steps towards her with an unreadable expression on his features.

"Jus' me, Maggie." he tells her.

"Maggie?!" Howard calls out, with a louder voice, as he moves up the stairs. "Forest?! Maggie?" he yells out.

As Howard finally makes it up the stairs he finds Maggie to be standing, a few feet away from Forrest, as though she cannot move. Her hands are covering her mouth and her eyes are closed tightly. Howard watches as she lowers her hands slowly from her mouth down to her side and as she does this she allows a soft sigh to pass her lips.

Jack, who had been sleeping peacefully upon hearing Maggie's scream, steps out of the door to his bedroom as quickly as he could. He didn't hesitate to find Maggie to make sure that everything was fine. His eyes quickly dart across the room until his eyes readjust to the darkness and he finds Forrest, Maggie and Howard who he finds is holding his rifle firmly in his hands.

Who exactly Howard is ready to shoot remains unknown to Jack. Considering that Jack is still cautious towards Howard, because of his threat at lunch, he takes a large step to the side and towards where Forrest stands.

Forrest turns stiffly towards Howard and hesitates before he mutters, "Uh….Ain't no need for that….Howard…"

Jack steps towards Maggie as he asks, "Er, you alright, Maggie?"

Maggie slowly opens her eyes now at the sound of Jack's voice. She considers his words for a moment and remains silent as she turns to face him. She pauses before she speaks and when she does her voice is so very soft.

"Didn't mean to wake you, Jack." she says, simply, and with a small smile on her face.

Maggie lifts her right hand to her chest and gently rubs at the skin as she allows another, longer, breath of air to pass her lips. Her heart continues to beat heavily in her chest as she still attempts to calm herself down.

She'll never admit it to another soul, but she was so incredibly frightened as she had caught sight of the figure as her first though had been that it was those men or Oliver returning and despite that she knew in her heart that such a thing would never happen, because Forrest would never allow it to happen, she couldn't stop herself from the fear that accompanied the sight of a simple shadow.

"I…." Maggie begins.

She pauses and looks as though she might speak but she does. Instead, she falls completely silent and slowly lowers her eyes to the floor. She isn't sure what she could say to Forrest, Howard or Jack in this moment. She doesn't have an answer or explanation to their questions.

They wouldn't understand her fears. Maggie believes that the Bondurant brothers are, to some extent, fearless in their own ways. She can't confide in them or admit to them that she had been frightened by nothing more than a shadow.

Howard frowns slightly as he notes that Forrest does not speak to Maggie or attempt to comfort her about whatever it was that has obviously startled her so. Howard has never comforted someone before in his life so he isn't entirely sure how to go about doing such a thing.

"Ah…." he begins; as he speaks he takes a step forward, towards Maggie. "You OK….Maggie?" he asks.

"Jus' startled, is all….Didn't mean to cause such a fuss…." she says; she pauses before she smiles kindly at Howard. "I'll clean up downstairs." she adds.

As Maggie moves as though she is going to take a step forward, Forrest moves with her. "Uh…." he begins. "You go to bed, now." he mutters.

Maggie remains silent as she slowly lifts her eyes to meet Forrest's gaze. She considers for a moment accepting his offer and allowing Forrest to clean up whatever mess Howard had accidently created but Maggie doesn't want Forrest to strain himself by doing such unnecessary tasks that she is more than capable of doing.

"I'm alright, Forrest." Maggie says, simply; as she speaks she takes a step past Forrest and then slowly moves past Howard.

As Maggie moves towards the stairs she whispers something of an apology to Jack, for waking him, before she slowly moves down the staircase.

"I'm alright, Forrest." she answers, simply.

The three brothers are left in a moment of an uncertain and unknown silence. Jack doesn't understand what it is that frightened Maggie and he so badly wants to find out so that he may try to comfort her as she has comforted him in the past but Jack believes that whatever it was, Maggie doesn't want to talk about it ever again.

Jack believes that Maggie is a strong woman. He also believes that even if he were to know what it was that startled her any attempt that he could make at trying to comfort her would not work as she does not seem like the type of lady to easily accept the comfort of others. Jack's certain she's not that type of person. He sees her as a strong woman who moves past everything that life throws at her and continues moving.

Without turning to glance at his brother, Howard almost growls, "Get the hell back to bed, Jack."

Despite that Jack is certain that Howard will force him into his bedroom if he does not listen, Jack does not move. He wants to move but more than that he wants to make sure Maggie will be fine otherwise he'll spend half the night worrying about her.

"Jack…" Howard begins; now as he speaks he turns slowly towards Jack and as he does Jack comes to view the slightly maddening expression on his features. "Get the hell back to bed, now, Jack, 'fore I put this goddamn bullet in your-"

"Uhh…." Forrest grunts, loudly. "Jack…" he says, simply.

Howard falls silent now and turns to face Forrest who he finds remains where he stands, in the same spot, where he had found Maggie seconds earlier.

"You go to bed, now." Forrest tells him.

Jack does not argue with Forrest nor does he hesitate to do as Forrest is asking. For some reason, Jack is more inclined to listen to Forrest when he tells him to go to bed because he knows that Forrest must want to speak to Maggie alone and so Jack listens and leaves his brothers standing in the darkened hallway lit up with only a few cracks of moonlight.

Howard takes a step towards his brother, before he asks, "What're you doin', creepin-"

"Wasn't creepin' 'round, Howard." Forrest tells him. He pauses before he continues, "Came lookin' for Maggie."

Howard nods once and remains silent as he isn't quite sure what else can be said in such a situation as what they have found themselves in.

"Uh….." Forrest begins, lowly. He says, "You go an' clean your own mess up, Howard. An' you send Maggie up here….Alright…."

Howard mutters lowly before he turns away from Forrest and begins moving back down the stairs. As he reaches the bottom of the staircase Howard glances towards the kitchen where he finds Maggie exactly where he knew he would; cleaning up the mess that he created.

As he'd heard Maggie scream out Howard had thrown down the glass jar that he'd been drinking out of and immediately reached for his rifle. He'd known that Maggie would have been alright up there because Forrest would never let another thing happen to her but Howard had still grabbed his rifle nonetheless so that he may protect her if he needed to.

The fragments of the shattered jar are scattered underneath and around the stool that Howard had been sitting on, the stool that he had knocked over and the stool that Maggie had set upright.

"Uh….." Howard begins, as he steps towards where Maggie is.

He isn't quite sure what to say for a moment and so for this moment he remains silent.

"I'm sorry 'bout your jar, Howard." Maggie tells him; as she speaks she sounds so sad about causing him to break a glass jar that meant nothing to him.

"Jus' a jar." Howard replies, simply.

Still, Maggie continues with a lower tone, "I'm real sorry, Howard, I am."

Howard's frown deepens as he doesn't quite understand why Maggie is working herself up into such a state over a jar of moonshine. He has plenty more of them and so she has no reason to be getting upset or feeling bad about it.

"Ah….It's alright, Maggie. Ain't nothin' to….." Howard begins but he stops, falling silent yet again, as he fails to find the right words to continue.

Maggie, who had been trying to pick up the piece of glass with a broom, looks up to Howard as she lets out a deep sigh.

"Uh…Should be headin' upstairs now, Maggie." he tells her.

She frowns slightly before she answers, "When I'm all done cleanin' up this mess, Howard."

Howard takes a slow step towards Maggie as he says, "I got it, Maggie."

"No, I've got it, Howard." she tells him, quickly. She continues with a softer tone, "I'm alright."

Howard begins, "Forrest said-"

"Howard," Maggie says, sighing loudly. "It's jus' glass. I'll have it cleaned up in no time."

He pauses before he lets out a small sigh and mutters, in response, "Mm….Alright, then."

* * *

After Maggie finishes cleaning up the mess downstairs, another mess which she was solely responsible for, she wishes Howard goodnight for the second time that night. As she moves towards the stairs Howard announces that he too is going to bed and after quickly moving to turn out the light he grabs his two untouched jars and accompanies Maggie up the stairs.

What Howard is doing, and what Maggie is aware of but pretends as though she is unaware of, is accompanying Maggie upstairs so that she will feel a sense of safety and not jump at another shadow lurking in the night. Howard is doing this because just as Maggie worries for him, he too worries for her and he always will.

He never thought that when Maggie Beauford came to the station he would ever care for her as much as he did. And he does care for her a great deal. He only wants to keep her safe and protect her because she is his family and she always will be.

Before retiring to his room, Howard mutters, "Ah…Night."

Maggie softly replies, with a smile that Howard can see because of the moonlight, "Goodnight, Howard."

Howard waits until Maggie has stepped through and closed the door to the room that she and Forrest share before he returns to his own room, closing the door softly, and retreating to his bed which he will spend hours upon hours drinking on until sleep does eventually find him.

Maggie finds Forrest, in their room, sitting on his stool in the corner of the room. She hadn't expected him to return to bed after what had just occurred and so she is not surprised to find him still up. Rather, she is quite annoyed with herself that she caused such a fuss over nothing. It was nothing. Maggie just hadn't been certain it was nothing when she had seen the figure.

She should have known, truly, that it was Forrest and Maggie wasn't sure why she had been so easily frightened by a shadow when it was impossible that the man she thought that it was could hurt her again.

"Mmm…." Forrest grunts, lowly; he stands from his chair and takes a step towards Maggie.

She is careful to hold his gaze as he does. As he moves so that he is standing before her she continues to hold his unwavering gaze.

He pauses before he continues, "Uh…..Didn't mean to….."

What Forrest means to say is that he didn't mean to scare Maggie. He didn't mean to frighten her or to cause her heart to nearly jump out of her chest. He'd never want to do such a thing and he now feels guilty for it. Forrest had been reaching for the door when Maggie had opened it from the other side.

"I know." Maggie replies, quickly. "Jus' tired, is all." she adds; she believes that her jumpy behavior is because she is tired and it's as simple as that.

But it really isn't as simple as that. It's much more complicated than that. Maggie just won't allow herself to believe otherwise. She won't allow herself to feel anything in regards to what they did, and what he did, and so she'll continue on as though everything is completely fine.

"Good night, Forrest." Maggie whispers; as she speaks she steps past him and moves towards their bed without a second glance back.

Forrest also returns to their bed and slowly moves back down, underneath, the sheets that had moments earlier covered his body. He sets his head down on the pillow and looks down at Maggie. She's lying on her side, as she has been lately, facing in the opposite direction so that he cannot see her face or her eyes. He doesn't know why she's been sleeping like that, lately, when she used to sleep so that she was as close to him as possible.

Now, he feels as though she is purposely distancing herself from him and he isn't entirely sure why she would do such a thing. She lies as far away from him as she can. She kisses him, briefly, good night on some nights but not all. He feels that there is, despite that they are in the same bed in the same room, such distance between them and he isn't sure how to fix it and fill that distance.

Forrest sighs and shuts his eyes for a brief moment as he considers what he will say next. He remembers a conversation that they had shared not so long ago and decides to start with that.

"Uh…..Maggie?" he calls out, with a quiet voice.

"Yes, Forrest?" she answers.

"Uh….Mm…." Forrest begins. He continues with a low tone that Maggie only just manages to hear, "You said once….That, uh….I don't deserve….That I-"

"Deserve better." Maggie says; she finishes off Forrest's sentence because she knows what he's talking about and she still believes that he does deserve better.

"Mmm…." he grunts.

"What about it, Forrest?" Maggie asks.

He doesn't hesitate to ask, "Uh….Still think that?"

"Yes, I do." she tells him, honestly.

Forrest falls silent, again, and for a moment the two of them stay silent. "Uh….You…." he mutters.

Maggie doesn't hesitate before she replies, "I ain't wrong, Forrest."

"Mmm….." he answers.

For a moment Maggie waits as she believes that Forrest may continue or that he may say something else. But he doesn't. He remains silent and so Maggie releases a small sigh and closes her eyes.

"Good night, Forrest." she tells him, softly, and leaves him to remain in his silence while she attempts to find sleep once more.

* * *

Howard had risen from bed so very early that morning as he had found sleep impossible to fall into. His thoughts, which had been slightly clouded from the liquor, had been of Evie and of Maggie, and then of Forrest and even Jack. He couldn't stop replaying Maggie's piercing scream in his head and he couldn't stop seeing the blood that had poured out of Forrest's chest as he had lain dying on the bridge. And in that moment, when Howard had been desperately screaming out for someone to help his brother, he was sure that Forrest was going to die.

So, Howard had gotten up from his bed and had left the station, despite the rain, as quickly as he could. He got into his car, with his several jars of moonshine, and he headed away from town and towards the mountains but then he'd stopped his car and for a reason that was still a little unsure to him he'd turned his car around and headed towards the direction of Evie's house.

Now, Howard was entirely sure what it was that had caused him to want to see Evie and why he had driven out towards her house but on the way there he had felt as though it was the right thing for him to do. But, he quickly changed his mind as his car moved down the path towards her house.

He couldn't turn back, though, because Evie, who had been sitting out on the verandah with a mug of coffee in her hands, had already spotted his car and Howard would feel like quite the fool for turning away. Already, he felt his palms becoming slightly sweaty as he was unsure of why he was here and what he was going to say upon reaching the verandah.

Howard took his time turning the car off, parking it, and putting his hat on. Then, he moved, so slowly, from the car and took even slower steps towards the house as he considered what exactly he was going to say when he stood in front of her.

As he moved up the stairs and stepped onto the verandah, out of the rain, he found Evie standing in a blue dressing gown with her brown hair curly and messy. She smiles at him as he removes his hat, quickly.

"You're here so soon, Howard?" she asks; her expression shifts into that of surprise at his speedy arrival.

A deep frown forms on Howard's features at this as he isn't quite sure he understands what Evie is saying and why she is so surprise that he is here so soon. "Uh….." he mutters.

Unsure of what else to say, Howard falls silent and remains that way.

"The way you were movin' out of that car, and walkin' up here, wasn't expecting you 'till sometime late, next year." Evie says; as she finishes speaking a smile spreads across her face.

"Ah…Yeah…." Howard begins. He pauses before he clears his throat and, with the hint of a smile on his face, says, "Real funny, ain't you, Evelyn."

Evie lets out a small sigh and with a soft smile on her pale features she moves towards the front doors. She steps inside them, without a word, leaving Howard out on the verandah by himself. He stands in a somewhat uncertain and awkward silence for a moment until Evie reappears on the verandah.

"You just gonna stand there, Howard, or you coming in?" she asks him.

"Uh…I'll….In." he mutters; with his hat in his hands he steps towards the doors and steps inside, after Evie does.

"So…" Evie begins; she speaks to Howard as she leads him down the narrow, small hallway and towards the kitchen. "What brings you here, Howard?" she asks.

When Howard gives Evie silence in response to her question she suggests, "Jus' thought you'd stop by?"

He grunts, "Mmm…."

As they enter the small, tidy kitchen Evie moves towards the pot of coffee which she'd just put on. "Want some coffee?" she asks; as she speaks she glances back at Howard.

"Mmm…" he begins. "Alright…." he adds; as he speaks he casts a quick look over Evie, in her dressing robe and pale blue shoes, before he looks slowly around the room.

"You know, uh, Howard…" Evie begins; she pulls two mugs out of a nearby cupboard before she continues, "About the other day….Jus' showing up at the station." she says. She pauses before she tells him, "I'm real sorry about that. I didn't mean to step in on your lunch, and that. I – I just thought I'd stop by."

Howard frowns slightly as he simply replies, "Alright."

Evie turns towards Howard with a brown mug in her hands and as she steps towards him she says, "Here you go."

As Howard takes the mug from Evie his fingers brush against hers; he has the urge to pull away because now, as he sees Evie, all he can hear are Jack's words about a woman like Evie not being interested in him and about Howard not being good enough for her. He doesn't want to cause Evie to feel anything for him because Jack's right – Evie is better than him in so many ways, well that's what Howard believes anyway.

Howard, who still wears the same deepened frown, mutters, "Thanks."

Howard falls silent after he takes a quick sip of the coffee. When he looks up again he finds Evie leaning against the counter of the kitchen bench, holding her own mug of coffee in her hands. She smiles at Howard as he glances up at her and moves to speak.

"Howard-" she begins.

"You….uh…" he begins, too, speaking as she does.

"I'm sorry." Evie says, with a small sigh. "You go, Howard." she adds.

Howard pauses and for a moment he lowers his gaze away from Evie and shifts in his stance. He knows what he wants to say but he isn't quite sure how to put the words. So, they just come out on their own.

"You, uh…." he mutters. "You here all alone?" he asks.

Howard had gathered as much from the sight of the house, the single dish resting on the sink from the breakfast meal, and the lack of sound coming from anywhere else in the house but from where they were in the kitchen. He also believed this because of what Jack had said, in the car.

As Howard speaks he wishes he hadn't. He can clearly see that speaking of such things has made Evie slightly uncomfortable, even if she is now attempting to pretend otherwise.

"Uhh…." Howard begins; he's about to apologize and leave Evie but then she speaks.

"Yeah." she replies, simply. "I am." she adds.

A small, sad smile falters on her lips as she asks, "But what's so bad about being alone?"

Although, as Howard hears her voice crack slightly as she speaks, he knows that it mustn't be all that pleasant for her to be living alone here or being alone always.

"You uh….You don't got-" he says; he trails of though because he doesn't believe Evie wants to talk about such things.

But, Evie knew what Howard was going to say. He was going to ask her if she had anyone else living here, or any friends that might come and stay with her, but she doesn't.

"I ain't got anyone, Howard." she admits. "Not anymore." she adds, with a much sadder tone.

"That, uh….ain't…uh…entirely, er, true." Howard states.

He isn't quite sure why he said such a thing like that when he was trying to keep his distance to Evie because then she would feel anything for him, and he wouldn't feel anything for her, and it would be better that way because he was not deserving of her.

What Howard means to say, but what he will not say, is that Evie has him. She isn'tt entirely alone. He isn't sure why he said such a thing or what he means by it. He doesn't know what he is, to Evie, but maybe his company will stop her from feeling so lonely.

Evie understands what Howard is trying to say and she doesn't ask him to continue because hearing those few words was enough for her. She manages a small smile as she asks, "Would you like to stay for breakfast, Howard?"

* * *

As she wakes in the morning Maggie does not wake to a soft morning light but rather to an almost entirely dark room. Her eyes remain closed, despite that she is awake, for a moment as the sound of the rain pouring down outside of her window and hitting the station hardly almost soothes Maggie into another, more peaceful, rest but she finds that she cannot allow herself to sleep upon noting Forrest's absence in bed beside her. She turns over, slowly, and finds that his place beside her is empty and the blankets have been pulled up to cover her completely.

She allows herself to lie alone, and in complete silence, for a moment before she slowly pulls herself from the bed and moves towards the bathroom. After scrubbing at her skin and washing herself, Maggie changes into a dark purple skirt and a light purple blouse. She tidies her hair and pulls it up simply, as she always has it, before she slowly moves downstairs.

As she enters the room she finds Forrest, behind the bar, cooking. A small smile tugs on Maggie's lips, but does not form entirely, at the sight of Forrest cooking he and Maggie breakfast. Forrest glances up at Maggie and for a moment he watches her before he quickly returns to what he is tending to, behind the bench. He does not speak to Maggie or acknowledge her until he has finished cooking her meal.

Forrest moves from behind the bar, with the two plates in his hands, and moves towards a table instead of the bar because he knows it has been quite some time since they have eaten together, just the two of them, at the table. He knows why Maggie chooses not to sit at the tables, with the exception of when they had Bertha over.

He places the plates down and then returns behind the bar to fetch the two mugs of coffee. Maggie moves towards the table slowly and watches as Forrest sets down a mug of coffee down beside her plate, filled with a few pieces of jam on toast and orange slices. He knows how much Maggie likes to eat jam on toast for breakfast.

He places a mug down beside his plate, scrambled eggs with toast and oranges, before he pauses and glances up at Maggie from where he stands behind his chair.

She smiles at Forrest and he cannot help but notice that it is such a soft, but also unsure, smile. He grunts, lowly, in response before he moves towards Maggie and pulls out her chair for her. Then, he returns to his chair and takes his seat.

"Ah, Forrest…" Maggie begins, softly, as she swallows a small mouthful of her toast.

He lifts his gaze from where it had rested on his plate to meet Maggie's and remains silent as he waits for her to continue with what she wants to say.

She pauses and shifts, slightly, in her chair before she says, "About last night…."

"Uh…." Forrest grunts, loudly, to stop Maggie from continuing. "Uh…Ain't nothin'…." he begins but stops and he doesn't have to continue because Maggie knows Forrest so well that she knows what he means.

He means that there is nothing for them to talk about, nothing for her to apologize for and they can continue on as they have these past weeks – pretending as though nothing happened.

She lifts her gaze to find Forrest's and they sit in a silence, again, as they both remain unsure and uncertain of where exactly they are and where they should go from here.

"Thanks…." Maggie begins, softly. "For breakfast, Forrest. It's real nice." she adds; as she speaks she wears a soft, thankful smile on her porcelain features which still hold the scars and bruises that Forrest cannot forget. "It is." she adds.

Forrest glances up, away from Maggie, and towards the outside of the station where he has just now seen a black car pulling up in the rain. He stands from his chair at the sight of the car, as does Maggie, and he steps towards the front doors as he watches from the window so that he may view the vehicle of the car.

A dark haired man, dressed in a pair of brown slacks and a similar brown top, jumps out of the car and moves quickly towards the passenger side. Forrest watches that from the passenger side he pulls something out and covers it with a black coat.

The man moves quickly through the rain and in a matter of seconds he is on the front verandah of the station and is reaching for the front doors. Before he opens them he calls out, loudly, "Uh, excuse me – You open?"

When Forrest does not answer, Maggie replies.

"Ah, yeah. We're open. Come on in." she calls back.

The man steps through the front doors, dripping with water, and pauses before he removes the coat from what he was covering to remove a young boy in his arms. The boy cannot be more than eight years old. He lowers him down onto the ground and with a smile the man steps forward.

"John Dailey." he announces. "This here is my boy, Walt. We were passing through town and got hit by the storm that's comin' through." he says; he pauses as he glances from Maggie to Forrest. "Heard in town that this was the place to come if you're lookin' for a warm meal an' a drink." he adds.

"Uh….Yeah…." Forrest mutters, lowly.

He shifts his gaze from John towards Maggie who he finds is much paler than earlier. It had taken Forrest a moment to realize what Maggie had been looking at. She'd been looking at the young boy and Forrest guesses it must remind her of her own boy – not that Forrest knows anything about that except what he'd heard from Oliver.

"You've come to the right place, then." she says, finally; as she finishes speaking Maggie forces a warm smile to appear on her face. "My name's Maggie B-Beauford." she says; she pauses for a moment as she realizes that she had almost introduced herself as Maggie Bondurant.

She is Maggie Bondurant but only she and Forrest know it. It was just something that she and Forrest felt as though they should keep to themselves, for now.

"This here is Forrest Bondurant." she adds before she gestures towards Forrest.

"Please to meet you both." John says, with a small smile.

"Yeah, it's a pleasure." Walt adds, with a smile on his own face.

"Anythin' in particular I can get you two?" Maggie asks.

Forrest takes a slight step forward and turns towards Maggie. "Uh….You ain't finished….Your meal." he mutters.

"Oh." John says, loudly. "I'm terribly sorry. Don't let us interrupt you." he adds.

"You're not." Maggie replies, quickly. "I've finished with it….Ah….Why don't we get you a seat up here…." she begins; as she speaks she moves and quickly takes her plate off of the table. She moves behind the bar as she continues, "An' I'll see if we have some blankets that'll warm you up."

After finding the blankets for Walter and John, Maggie had cooked them both up their requested meal of scrambled eggs on toast with a side of bacon and some orange slices. She'd poured John a mug of coffee and Walt an orange juice.

At first, Maggie had believed that she could do this; that she could be around a young boy who painfully reminded her of her own boy. Now, he did not look the exact same as Thomas appearance wise but he was what Maggie imagined his height would be like. Seeing Walt caused Maggie to imagine what Thomas would have looked like at that age, or when he was thirteen, or even when he turned twenty one.

He was such a beautiful looking young boy with a pure, beautiful heart and Maggie had been certain that her son had been destined for wonderful things. She had felt, in her heart, that he was put on this earth to be good and to do such good things and to help others but he had never gotten the chance to do so.

She moves away from the bar and away from John and Walt, who are happily digging into their warm meal, and towards the radio which she slowly turns on. She turns the radio on so that it will fill the silence. But music cannot fill all silences and all emptiness. With hands that tremble slightly she lights a cigarette and presses it to hers, closing her eyes after she exhales.

Sometimes, there is nothing you can do to fill that void inside of you. Sometimes, the emptiness cannot be filled despite how badly you long for it to be. Sometimes, life is unfair and it's as simple as that.

* * *

**A/N: Hi there! I want to apologise for how long it took me to update. I was so very busy and then I found I wasn't able to write much of this story that I considered good. So, here it is. I hope you like it. I apologise again for the lateness and I'll try to update sooner. I also apologise for any grammatical errors, if there are any.**

**Dear Guest reviewer, who posted as Guess on Chapter 11;  
Thank you so much! I'm so happy that you're like the developing of Howard and Evie. I hope you like their developing in this chapter - it's slow and there's not much, but I promise more in the next chapter. Thanks for reviewing. I hope you enjoy this.**

**Thank you for everyone who reads my story, reviews, favourites and follows.  
I'm so very grateful. Thank you. x**


	13. No need to pray, no need to speak

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I own only the O/C characters and ideas created of this story.**

* * *

Forrest watches from where he sits as Maggie stands, as still as he has seen her in quite some time, at the kitchen window. She'd moved to turn the radio on and a low song had begun playing through the room as she had stepped towards the window. He'd watched as she'd lit a cigarette with hands that he noticed trembled as she placed the cigarette between her lips and lit it. Now, she stood with her eyes closed, inhaling and exhaling on the cigarette.

Maggie has fallen so deeply into her own world of memories and thoughts that she does not notice John and Walt's departure, despite that they thank her for such a wonderful meal and call out their goodbyes. She remains in this own world of hers for quite some time and she is quite happy here as she relives memories of her boy and her mama.

She suddenly becomes aware that this world filled with light, and those she loves, is not real as she feels a hand pressed to her shoulder.

As she first feels the touch, her eyes open and she turns slowly around to find Forrest standing behind her. He wears a complicated and complex expression that he has carefully and skillfully made so unreadable to Maggie that she could never attempt to try to understand it.

"Just, uh…." Maggie begins.

She looks down to the cigarette in her hands to find it's almost out. Quickly, she moves towards a bowl and puts what remains of the cigarette out. Then, she glances up to find the two customers gone.

She doesn't speak, upon noticing their absence, but rather looks down upon the seat that the little boy had rested upon.

Forrest grunts, lowly, before he begins, "Your…child…."

"Don't." Maggie says, simply; her tone is not that of an angry one or a sharp one but rather a tired one.

She's tired of the pain that she is sure will accompany a conversation such as this and she really doesn't want to talk about it. She exhausted, drained, and she's tired of this.

He steps towards her and mutters, so lowly, "Uh….Maggie…."

"Don't talk about him, Forrest." she replies, sharply.

As she speaks she takes a step back, away from the bar, and turns slowly to face Forrest who she finds is still continuing to watch her with his unreadable expression. She tries desperately to read the emotions on his face but she can't. She tries to understand what he is thinking about, what he is thinking about her, but she can't deny that a part of her is glad that she cannot access those thoughts.

She doesn't need to be inside his mind, or read his expression, to know that he is disgusted by her. She saw it, a flicker in his eyes, when he confronted her in the hospital about her son.

She can't forget that. Maggie will never forget how Forrest, after all that she had been through with Oliver, the first thing that Forrest had spoken about when she'd woken up in the hospital was about Oliver and how he'd told Forrest she had a son.

She had son; a beautiful, gold-hearted boy who she loved with her entire heart. Her son showed her how strong, how powerful, love could be but he also, with his death, showed her how hauntingly overwhelming the darkness that accompanies the loss of the person you loved, more than life itself, can be.

Forrest says, "Uh….He look….like that-"

"Forrest." Maggie sighs; she closes her eyes slowly and releases a small sigh, hoping that Forrest will stop now.

Maggie can't answer that question; she doesn't know if he looked like that boy because she was never able to see him grow up, into a beautiful young boy, so she'll never know what he might have looked like. She'll never know who he was or what he could have done to make this world better; and he would have made this world better had he got the chance to

But Forrest doesn't stop. He can't. He believes that they need to talk about this because Maggie has a child and that child could be anywhere and he may need to be properly cared for.

She wants him to stop, she needs him to stop talking about this, but a lot of the time you don't always get what you want. Sometimes, life is unfair and what you want can never be yours and what you never wanted is forced upon you.

"You, uh….You left him behind…." Forrest mutters. He pauses for a moment before he finally adds, "An'….You, uh…mmm…Feel guilty….'bout it."

Forrest doesn't know the entire story, he knows that. He wants to know the story. He believes that, as Maggie's husband, he has a right to know this story about her son who could need her. This son who is without a father and a mother, and if he doesn't have any other family to care about him than he is entirely alone.

"Yes, Forrest." Maggie replies, sharply. Her eyes open as she says, "I feel guilty. But I didn't leave him behind."

She hesitates before she adds, "Can we stop talkin' 'bout it, now?"

"Where, uh….is he….then….?" Forrest asks her; as he speaks he takes another, slower step, towards Maggie.

"Forrest…." Maggie says, softly.

It's almost as though she is pleading with him not to speak of these things because she isn't ready to talk about them. It's all still too painful. It's too raw.

When she thinks of these things all that she can see is the blood and she's so damn sick of this blood. She can't scrub it off of her skin, the floor of the station or off of the seat of the scar, not entirely, but even if she were to remove it from the surface it would still remain with her under her skin, scarring her for the rest of her life. It would forever stand as a reminder of all that she had done and everything that she failed to do.

"Where…" Forrest mutters; he falls silent as Maggie speaks.

"He's not here, alright?" she says, quickly.

Maggie attempts to step away from Forrest but he moves as she does and gently catches her hand. He doesn't want this distance to stay between them. He doesn't want things to continue on as they have been lately.

"Maggie…." he begins; his voice is so low as he speaks and so calm.

But Maggie isn't calm. She isn't calm in the slightest way.

"Forrest, I said I don't want to talk 'bout it. It's my damn business!" she says; she speaks louder than she had intended to. "Alright?" she adds, at the end, with a slightly lower tone.

Forrest pauses and for a moment Maggie believes that he may be considering letting it be but he does not because he cannot leave things as they are.

"Maggie….." he mutters. "As your-" he begins.

And Maggie knows what Forrest is going to say, even if he doesn't finish speaking, because she knows him so well. He was going to say as her husband he has a right to know such things about her.

"Don't say that, Forrest." she says. "Don't." she adds. Maggie pauses before she continues, with a much louder and strained voice, "It ain't like you told me every god damn thing you ever done, have you, Forrest? Every bad thing you've ever done, an' the good – you ain't told me an' I don't ask 'cause there are some things that are better left unsaid."

Maggie stops to release a small sigh before she continues, "I don't ask 'bout them 'cause I know who you really are an' that's all that matters to me, Forrest, that's all that matters to me! An', you know, some things are better off not ever comin' to light – some things are better off left in the dark."

Forrest remains silent as he casts his eyes over Maggie who he finds is wearing such a pained expression on her features.

"Mmm….." he grunts, lowly. Another minute passes them before he says, "Can't, uh….Leave this….In the dark."

"Why can't I?" Maggie counters, quickly. "Why, Forrest? Why won't you let me?" she repeats.

Forrest answers, lowly, "You, uh…..You got a child-"

"Please, Forrest." Maggie sighs, pleading with him to leave it be.

"Mmm…." he murmurs, looking up to meet Maggie's gaze.

He can't leave it be. He can't allow her to leave her child out in the world without his parents. He'd be all alone, out there, and Forrest doesn't want that.

"Can't pretend-" he begins.

"Forrest." she replies, loudly. "Why won't you just leave it be?! He's gone. Alright, Forrest? He's gone an' there ain't a damn thing that I can ever to do get him back." she says, unable to stop her voice from cracking as it rises with both anger and sadness.

Maggie steps away from Forrest, quickly, and without another word or a glance back she steps out of the kitchen and moves on to the verandah so that she can breathe in the fresh air and try to find some sort of calm.

* * *

Evie glances up, from where she sits beside Howard in his car, to find that he had been briefly watches her. He looks away from her, quickly, avoiding her gaze as he continues to stare outwards at the road in front of them. He wears the same unreadable, creased expression on his features as he did when they'd entered the car.

"You alright, Howard?" she asks, finally.

He nods, grunting something that she doesn't quite hear but doesn't ask him to repeat. Evie notes that his eyes are red, and bloodshot, and she can only assume that he'd been drinking a lot, too much, the previous night. She isn't one to judge a person on what they do and don't do because what a person does is their business, entirely, and no one else's unless they wish it to be.

But, Evie doesn't particularly like alcohol. She's drunk it, once or twice, and while she doesn't hate the taste of it she doesn't enjoy it and she doesn't enjoy what it does to people who drink too much.

She notices how tired Howard looks; he looks exhausted but even after she'd tried to convince him that she could show him the fields another day he'd still insisted on going.

They don't speak much, on the way there; a couple of odd words, here and there, and Evie instructing Howard on what roads to take. He's grumpier, than he is usually is, but she doesn't bother him about it. She doesn't know Howard Bondurant all that well but she knows that he doesn't like talking, an awful lot, and so she decides to leave that conversation unspoken for now.

Evie wasn't sure why she had told Howard about the fields, the ones that she and her brother used to run off to when they were younger. She'd told him they'd go there for fun but it wasn't for fun. They would run to these fields when their father had drunk far too much. He'd go off, screaming and yelling madly, and if he'd had a particularly bad day or had drunken more than usual he might get physically violent.

They'd run to these fields, their legs aching because it was a far run, but once they'd get there they would collapse in the grass, hidden by the tall grass, and they'd be safe for hours, and hours. They'd play in these fields, too. They spent days in these field, especially once they'd found out about the swimming hole not too far away.

They pull up to the fields, moments later. After pulling the car to a stop, Evie gets out. Howard pauses. He waits a moment before he unscrews a jar of moonshine; he swallows half of the contents before releasing a satisfied sigh and placing the jar on the floor of the car.

He glances up to find Evie watching him, closely. She doesn't say anything, though. Instead, she quickly looks away from him and directs her attention up towards the sky.

"Think it's gonna rain?" she asks, loudly.

Howard simply shrugs and mutters something.

"You alright, Howard?" she asks, glancing towards him.

She finds that he remains where he stands, by the side of his car. His eyes stay fixed on something in the distance; she follows his gaze past the fields, and a small lake, towards the empty train tracks in the distance. He stares at these tracks like he can see something she can't, like he's reliving a memory.

"Howard?" she calls out.

The worry, that she feels, echoes through her voice. Still, he doesn't respond. She takes a slightly cautious step towards Howard, calling out to him once more before she reaches him.

She sets a gentle hand on to his shoulder, as she begins, "Howard, are you-"

He grabs her wrist the very second it touches his shoulder; he doesn't grab it harshly, or violently, but rather gently. His face is hardened. His eyes have become emptier and much colder.

He lowers his eyes to his hand, staring at it as though it is a sight completely new to him. He recoils away from her, pulling his hand away from her and releasing her.

"Uh….." he begins, dryly. He shifts, in his stance, before he coughs loudly. "Didn't mean…..To…." he murmurs.

And that's all that he says because it's all he can say, right now.

Without another word, Howard opens the door to the car and unscrews the jar. He swallows the rest of the contents in only two mouthfuls before he discards the empty jar on the floor and reaches for another. After taking a large sip of liquor, and sighing, he glances up at Evie who is watching him in a way that makes him feel uncomfortable.

He feels uncomfortable because he thinks she's looking at him with sympathy in her eyes and he doesn't want that. She has nothing to be sympathetic for. He doesn't want to see that look in her eyes. In this moment, he wants to be alone and he wants to drink as much as he can.

"We, uh….We're done….Here…." he states; he's not asking but rather telling Evie that they're done here, after only arriving seconds early.

"Okay, Howard." Evie answers, softly.

She casts a slow look over the fields and as she does, for a flickering moment, she can see her brother; he's laying down in the fields, beside her, rays of sunshine falling down on to him. He's smiling, because he'd managed to make her laugh and that had made him smile bigger than she'd ever seen him.

Howard doesn't speak and he doesn't bother Evie as she gazes off in the direction of the fields. He stares down at the jar in his hands, taking large and frequent sips of its contents. He can't help, as he reaches out to close the car door, his eyes as they flicker, unintentionally and against his will, towards the train tracks.

He breathes inwards, gulping almost, before he finishes the contents of a jar and reaches for a new one. This jar is his last, in the car, but they have plenty at home.

"You sure you're right to be driving?" Evie asks.

She almost startles him. He hadn't noticed her presence and he hadn't heard the door shut as she'd closed it. She watches Howard, intently. She knows that he has, in the last few minutes, drunken a lot and she isn't sure if he'll be able to drive so well.

"'M…Alright…." Howard murmurs, effortlessly.

Howard's done, for today. He wants to go back to the station and drink until he doesn't feel anything and then he wants to keep drinking until he's numb and even then he'll keep on drinking until he passes out.

Howard is tired of feeling this way, he's tired of feeling in general; he wants to forget it all because everyone should be allowed to forget the things that torment and haunt them.

* * *

She doesn't know why she came out here, to the forest. Maggie's feet had led her away from the station, and away from Forrest, and in minutes she had found herself beside a small, running lake. She draws in a small breath of air as she glances up towards the sky, which has just released the beginnings of what has the potential to be a very heavy and strong storm.

She knows she should return before the rain gets harder, and it's only a matter of time before it does, but she finds it so peaceful out here. She sighs, softly, and closes her eyes as the cool droplets of rain begin to fall on to her skin.

The rain soothes her, it calms her, it provides Maggie with a moment of peace which she needs so badly but unfortunately this moment of peace is only a moment, it's too small for her to fully appreciate it before it is gone.

"Maggie?" a familiar voice calls out, kindly.

The coldness of the rain fades away, as most things tend to, and it is replaced with a light, and warmth, which Maggie is unaccustomed to by craves. She opens her eyes, slowly, to find that she isn't standing before a small running lake, on the station property.

Instead, she finds that she is standing outside a large, blue and yellow, house. She casts her eyes over the garden, which is blooming and blossoming with an abundance of various varieties of foods and flowers.

"Maggie, darlin'….." the voice repeats.

A smile tugs on Maggie's features as she recognizes the speaker; her mama.

"Mama?" she cries out, in disbelief.

She spins around, quickly, to find her mama standing before her. Her orange curls flow, with the wind; she's dressed in a lovely blue and white dress that Maggie remembers being her favorite out of her mama's dresses. Her mother's cheeks are pink, with color, and her eyes are filled with a light that is new to Maggie.

She hasn't seen this light in her mama's eyes in years.

"Mama….." she whispers, the smile faltering before fading completely. "You ain't here, mama." she murmurs.

Her mama assures her, "What'd you mean? I'm right here baby-girl."

"You were…." Maggie begins.

Her mama answers, "Here all along, darlin', an' so has Tommy."

Maggie's heart nearly breaks as her mother says those words to her. She would give anything, absolutely anything, to see Tommy again.

"Tommy?" Maggie cries out. "Tommy's here?" she asks.

Her mama nods at her, the smile on her face widening. "He's here, sweetheart."

Maggie cries out, for Thomas. "Tommy?" she calls out.

She turns around, towards the direction that her mother is looking towards. She finds a field, of golden wheat, and she sees a young boy running through it; she can't see his face, he has his back to her, and it's as though he's running away from her.

"Tommy!" she shouts.

She moves away from her mama and begins to run through the fields; her leg gets caught, in a hole in the ground, and she trips. She falls in the dirt and it smears up her arms and on her legs but she doesn't care. She gets up and continues moving; she tries to move quickly, speedily, so that she can reach Tommy.

He's moving so quickly, like he's so determined to get away from her. She needs to see him. She needs to see his face, and his eyes, and she needs to kiss him and hold him and she needs to have him back in her life.

"Tommy, don't run away, again." she cries.

She doesn't understand why but tears begin to fall down her face; they stream down her cheeks, momentarily causing her vision to become blurry. She trips again but she isn't sure why; there's nothing on the ground that would cause her to trip. It feels like she had been pushed by invisible hands. She stands, again, still crying.

She doesn't understand why she is crying, so much, if Tommy is here with her. And he is here with her. She can see him and she can _almost_ reach him. But, he's always almost close and then he's gone. She can't lose him again; she can't go through that again. She wouldn't survive it, not that she survived it the first time. There would be nothing left of her.

"Tommy, I'm sorry." she says.

She comes to a halt as she finds he has stopped running. He doesn't move. He doesn't turn around to face her and he doesn't speak to her.

"Tommy, I'm sorry I let you go." she whispers, through her sobs. "I-I didn't want to, I didn't want to, Tommy." she says.

She continues to move towards him; she moves slowly, cautiously, as though she is afraid that if she moves too quickly he will pull away from her. She just wants to hold him in her arms again and tell him how much she loves him.

"Maggie….." he whispers.

He doesn't turn around to face her. She can't see his face yet. And his voice, it isn't clear.

"It's me." he says.

She cries when she hears those words.

"It's alright, Maggie." he promises. "I got you." he says.

But, just as she is _almost_ able to reach out to him, he fades away right before her eyes and she's just as helpless as she was the day that she lost him. He disappears in seconds and there's nothing Maggie can do to get him back. There's nothing that she can to do fight off the darkness that overwhelms her and takes her the moment she loses her son, and her mother, for the second time. She can't fight it because she has nothing left to fight with.

* * *

When Howard pulls up to the station, the rain is heavier, stronger, than when it'd first hit when he'd been driving Evie home. He'd tried to cover her from the rain, by walking her to her door and using his jacket to try and keep her dry, and then after a quick goodbye he'd left.

Howard slams the car door, harshly, after he gets out of it. He moves towards the station, quickly, in need of a drink. He takes the stairs two at a time and shakes himself off, trying to dry himself of the rain, before he opens the front doors and steps inside.

He expects the station to be filled with a few customers, at the very least, taking shelter from the harsh weather but instead he finds it empty. The tables and chairs are all neatly arranged. Everything is in its place. The only thing missing is Maggie, moving around the station cleaning or preparing a meal, and Jack and Howard.

The frown on his face deepens. He turns around and glances outside, counting the cars that he can see. He finds that none of cars are gone. They should all be here but they're not.

"Forrest?" Howard calls out, loudly.

As he turns back around his eyes flicker down towards something he'd missed seconds earlier; he finds a very light trail of water moving towards the stairs. He guesses that Jack must've been out, in the rain, and has now created another mess for Maggie to clean.

"Damn it, Jack!" Howard exclaims, loudly, angrily.

He moves quickly towards the bar, his loud steps echoing in the quiet room. He unscrews the lid from the jar as quickly as he can and swallows as much of the liquor as he is able to in one mouthful.

He hears footsteps, behind him. Howard removes the jar from his lips, sighs, and wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

"Damn it, Jack." he repeats. "What'd I-" he begins.

He stops speaking as he turns around to find Forrest, standing in the archway of the door. His face is empty, and impassive, but Howard sees a flicker in his eyes. It's just that Howard isn't able to understand, entirely, what that flicker is. He's never been good at reading people, especially not Forrest.

"See this mess, damn Jack went an' created…." Howard murmurs, angrily, before he takes another, large sip from the jar.

Forrest remains silent, impassive, and cold. He doesn't move from where he stands, in the archway, and he doesn't lift his eyes from Howard's. He appears cold, unreadable, but Howard doesn't take notice of this right away because he's worked up and he's already drunk so much.

He takes another mouthful before he calls out, "Better get down here, Jack-"

"Uh….." Forrest begins.

And that single word, muttered so quietly, is enough to cause Howard to fall silent and remain silent.

"Jack….Mmmm….He ain't comin' down….." Forrest mutters.

The frown that had already rested on Howard's features deepens. Now, it seems, that Howard comes to notice that Forrest is entirely covered and dripping with water.

"Er….What ya' mean, Forrest?" Howard asks; his voice is much lower, much dryer, and holds much less anger as he speaks.

Howard doesn't sound calmer, though, because he is never and never will be completely calm.

"Mm…..Jack's upstairs….." Forrest murmurs. "Uh….Called…doctor 'round….." he adds.

Howard loses it. He places the jar down on the bench and steps towards where Forrest stands. He moves quickly, loudly, and his voice rises greatly.

"Somethin' wrong with Jack?" Howard asks. "What- You- You're all-" he begins; now, he sees that Forrest is stained with spots of blood.

Howard moves, so that he may move upstairs and see Jack, but Forrest moves with him; Forrest simply lifts his right hand, pressing it against Howard's chest, and it's enough to cause Howard to stop moving.

"Nothin'….." Forrest begins.

"What….In the hell is wrong with Jack?" Howard shouts. "Need t' move outta my way, Forrest." Howard warns him; he speaks quickly, loudly, but he doesn't move from where he stands.

"Lower your voice, Howard." Forrest says, simply and firmly. "Now….." Forrest begins. "Jack's alright….Water hit him an' Bertha, got sick, is all…." he adds.

Forrest pauses, shifting his gaze briefly between Howard and the water on the floor. As he meets his brother's gaze again he presses his lips together.

"If….It's nothin'….Why's the doc' seein' him?" Howard asks, somewhat suspiciously.

Despite that Forrest has been and always will be heavily guarded, Howard has always been able to, to some extent, read him. He can see that something has happened. It's more than Jack being sick, because of the rain.

Forrest is too still. His eyes are too empty, his expression is too void, he's too calm – and it isn't a usual calm, it's a cold, almost frightening, calm and Howard knows that there is and anger lying beneath this calm because there always has been.

"Mmm….." he mutters, shifting slightly.

"Forrest." Howard says.

"Didn't….uh….Call him….For Jack…." Forrest says, finally; he speaks with such a lower, and such an empty, tone.

For a second, and only a brief second, Howard doesn't understand. He doesn't understand why the doctor would be here if he wasn't tending to Jack, because he got sick in the rain. He believes that Forrest might have called the doctor for himself, maybe he's wounds weren't healing as they should be.

Immediately, Howard feels a heavy sense of guilt crashing upon him. He'd asked a lot, when Forrest had first come home, how he was but after Forrest had repeatedly told Howard to quit asking because he was fine – Howard had stopped asking.

Forrest and Howard exchange a look that gives Howard his answer; Forrest didn't call the doctor for Jack, or for himself. That leaves only one person. It leaves the person who Howard had expected to find in the kitchen with a smile on her lips, moving quickly behind the kitchen.

_Maggie._

Maggie was unaccounted for. It made sense to Howard, now, why Forrest was so still and unmoving, so stiff and cold, so hardened and empty. Maggie had been hurt. Howard's mind immediately races towards the worst possible scenario; that Maggie is severely hurt and there is nothing that the doctor can do.

A silence passes between the two brothers. They stand, together, unsure of what to say for a moment. Finally, Howard speaks. His voice is low, dry, and empty.

"Er….She, uh….She alright?" Howard asks.

Forrest hesitates.

He is hesitant to answer this question because he doesn't have the answer. He hasn't seen Maggie, yet, so he doesn't know how she is. And before this, before she was hurt, he didn't know if she was alright.

The doctor said he would quickly check in on Jack before he returned to Maggie's room, to check in on her. He'd also advised Forrest that it'd be best if he waited outside. The look in the doctor's eyes, the look that Forrest recognized as the doctor thinking Maggie shouldn't be around men such as the Bondurants, and the way he'd told Forrest it'd be best if _he_ stepped outside was enough to make Forrest want to show the doctor what the Bondurant's were capable of.

"Mmmm…." he mutters.

Forrest doesn't know what else he can say; he doesn't know what else to say, so he doesn't say anything. He moves towards the bench, slowly. Howard watches him as he does. Forrest doesn't hesitate; he reaches for a jar behind the counter and unscrews the lid.

After swallowing from the glass, he moves slowly so that he is sitting on the bar stool. He releases a small, low, inaudible sigh. As he opens his eyes he sees, in the corner of his eyes, Howard has taken a seat on the stool next to him and is drinking from his own jar.

They share another, brief look before they return to their liquor. All that they can do for now is drink and wait.

Forrest glances up from his jar towards the window and as he does, he remembers finding her. He remembers it all too clearly, it is something that he won't ever forget for as long as he lives – and there are many things that a man can never forget, even with time, and this is one of those things.

He will live with it for as long as he lives. He will believe he is to blame, for the pain that he has caused her, and he will have to live with that. He will have to live with all that he has done to her and all that he has failed to do for her.

He'd been standing on the verandah, for a long time, after she'd left the station. She hadn't left in the car because her car remained parked where it was. He'd seen her walking off, on foot, anyway. He'd been tempted to go after, to stop her from leaving, but she was a grown woman and so she was capable of making those decisions for herself. He didn't want to force her in to coming back, to the station, until she'd wanted to.

And he had no intention of making her come back against her will.

Forrest believed that Maggie deserved many things in this life; she deserved happiness, and freedom, and she deserved many more things for she had a great heart.

The rain had started to fall. At first, he'd thought it would eventually pass but it didn't; it fell heavier, stronger, and he couldn't leave her out there in this weather. She would surely get sick and he didn't want that. She hadn't recovered properly from the last time that she was in hospital.

Forrest had stepped out into the rain, with no thought or regard to his own health, and he'd begun walking in the direction that he'd believed she'd taken. But he didn't find her. He'd turned back and taken another path, which hadn't led to Maggie, but eventually he found her because they would always find each other.

She was a little deeper in to the forest, of the trees and bushes. She must have slipped, on some rocks, because he'd found her with blood running down her arms and legs. She didn't notice it and she didn't seem to notice him. He'd moved towards her quickly, ignoring the pain that he felt moving throughout his body.

She was dripping with water; her entire body was shivering, shaking, and her skin was so pale. Her eyes were empty, devoid of any life or color, and her face was cold.

She'd been calling out to someone, he'd just caught the name; _Tommy_.

He'd moved towards Maggie as quickly as he could. She was covered in blood, her own blood, and that caused Forrest a great amount of pain and fear. As he'd reached her, he'd set an arm down on to her shoulder. She'd cried out for Tommy, again.

He'd tried to comfort her.

He'd told her, "_It's me, Forrest." _

She started crying when he told her those words.

He took another step towards Maggie and reached out for her arm. She didn't pull away as he'd feared she might. She was so willing to come with him. But, as she stepped forward with him she fell.

Her body was exhausted, and broken, and bloodied and she broke. She fell, collapsing into the dirt, and her blood had mixed with the blackened dirt. Forrest had knelt down, immediately, on his knees.

His hands had moved to hers, as she'd tried but failed to stand from the ground.

Forrest had whispered, "_It's alright, Maggie."_

He hadn't been certain if she had heard him or not but he'd guessed she hadn't. She didn't respond, not a single word passed her lips. She met his gaze but there was no flicker of recognition.

Her skin was freezing, icy cold, and Forrest silently cursed himself for not coming out in search for her earlier. The rain had started falling hours ago, she'd been out for at least an hour and a half before he'd come looking for her. He thought she'd return but she didn't. He wasted so much time.

The rain falls down, heavier now, on to them; it blurs his vision, momentarily, and it soaks the two of them and blends into the dirt and blood. He scoops Maggie up, in one movement, and holds her in his arms.

As he carried her towards the house, he'd said, "_I got you."_

Her blood had stained him, become a part of him, as he'd moved towards the house with her firmly in his arms. He wasn't letting go, he wouldn't let her go. He'd stepped inside to find Jack and Bertha but he didn't take any notice of them. He moved upstairs, not even glancing at the two of them.

Jack had been at his heel the entire time, with Bertha not far behind him. Forrest hadn't been in the right mind; he'd placed Maggie's body down on to their bed and had begun to try to cover her with as many blankets at possible, all the while listening to Jack worriedly ramble on about Maggie.

He knew now that Jack only had good intentions but there were times when he couldn't stop himself. Forrest had yelled, angrily, that Jack was to "shut his damn mouth" and "call the doc'."

And as Forrest had turned towards Jack, he'd noticed it; he finally noticed that his little brother was absolutely drenched with water, shivering uncontrollably, and his skin was much paler.

Forrest had cursed; he had cursed about people not knowing how to damn well keep out of the water when it was raining so heavily like this. He'd sent Bertha downstairs to call a doctor and had sent Jack straight to his room. And Jack didn't dare answer back.

Bertha called the doctor who said he was right on his way. Bertha had been looking just as unwell as Jack and so Forrest had sent her to Howard's room – but she'd quickly told him that her mama was coming to pick her up because she didn't want to be a burden.

Bertha left Forrest, so that she could check on Jack.

Forrest had kneeled by Maggie's side as she had been muttering words he couldn't understand and whispering names that he didn't know. He'd wanted to help her, because that's all that he's ever wanted to do, but all that he could do was pull the blankets up over her, keep her warm, and hope that she'd be okay and that they'd pull through this, together, because he couldn't think of the alternative.

He couldn't and he wouldn't see a world where Maggie wasn't by his side.

* * *

**A/N: It's been six weeks since my last update. I want to apologise for the lateness. I guess the reasons for lateness would be things got in the way, I hit writers block, and then I loss the motivation, I guess.**

**I'm not sure if I like this chapter. I mean, I'm happy with it but it's not my favorite chapter. I wanted to put something up for those of you who read it - if anyone still reads it? I'm not sure.**

**I apologise for any grammatical errors in this. I've checked it over...It was written fairly late at night/early into the morning..**

**Thanks for reading.**


	14. The pressure's hard to take

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I own only the O/C characters and ideas created of this story.**

* * *

The two brothers had sat in silence for quiet some time before the doctor had made his way downstairs.

He'd told them that Jack would be fine and he'd probably get a small cold from the water. He'd informed them that he hadn't been out there too long and he just needed a few days rest.

Howard had wanted to remark that all Jack did was rest but he'd kept his mouth firmly shut because now certainly wasn't the time for such comments.

Forrest didn't move. He didn't breathe or blink as he waited for the doctor to tell them how Maggie was doing, upstairs. The doctor took his time, getting to Maggie, and Howard could tell Forrest was getting impatient as the doctor rambled on about how staying out in this weather was likely to result in sickness.

Then, he'd told them about how Miss Beauford was doing upstairs. She needs to rest, he said. He'd paused, drawing in a small breath, before he casts a look over the brothers and stated that a young woman like that had no business being out in the rain. He'd spoken to them as though they were directly responsible for her current state and Forrest believed he was responsible.

He pushed her away, out in to the rain, and he didn't go looking for her soon enough.

They soon learned that Maggie would be fine; she'd sustained a few small gashes to her arm, and ankle, but those didn't worry the doctor. What worried the doctor was how cold she was, how pale and unresponsive she was for quite some time.

The water would not make her sick however it reduces her ability to fight off infections. If she were to develop a cold, her body would not be able to fight it off as she previously would have been able to. One of the many possibilities, an unlikely one but still a possibility, was the that she could develop phenomia, he said, and that they'd have to keep a close eye on her and he'd be back to visit in the morning.

She was physically exhausted and needed rest, more than anything. She needed rest, to take it easy, and she _should_ recover.

Forrest didn't much like that word, 'should'.

It held too much uncertainty.

After the doctor leaves, Howard looks down at Forrest and casts another look over his brother; the blood still stains him, he hasn't changed out of his clothes, and he's still wet with the cold water but he doesn't seem to care or notice this.

Forrest closes up the station. He plans to keep it closed for a few days, until the weather has calmed and Maggie and Jack have recovered.

Forrest tells Howard to go upstairs and check in on Jack, after he makes him a hot drink. Howard carries the drink up, slowly, and finds Jack in his bed upstairs. For some reason the sight of Jack, with the blankets pulled up to his neck and completely covered, reminds Howard of when Jack was a much younger boy.

"What the hell ya' doin'...Out in the goddamn rain, anyway, Jack?" Howard asks.

"I'm alright, Howard." Jack assures Howard.

"So much as move a foot outta that bed..." Howard begins, as he puts down the mug on the small table beside Jack's bed. "An' Forrest ain't gonna be happy." he adds.

Jack sighs. He reaches for the mug and drinks from it – finding it too be far too hot, he coughs several times, he sets it back down where it had previously.

"Er..." Howard begins, lifting his hand to the back of his neck and scratching it. "How you feelin'...?" he asks, finally.

"I'm alright, Howard." Jack repeats, a small smile on his pale features.

"How's Bertha?" Jack asks, as Howard reaches the door.

"Bertha's alright, Howard says. "Went home." he adds.

And Jack believes this is the first time Howard has said Bertha's name, instead of calling her Betty, or the Preacher's daughter. Jack says nothing, just half smiles at it.

Howard pauses. "Need anythin'...Jack..." Howard says, meaning that if Jack needs anything, anything at all, then he shouldn't hesitate to call out or ask Howard for it.

Jack nods, once. "Thanks, Howard." he answers, lowly, as he watches his brother step out of the room.

Howard can hide it easily from everyone else but himself; he worries insanely for Forrest, Jack and Maggie because they're his family and he doesn't want to lose any of them, ever.

* * *

Maggie stirs in her bed, in the late afternoon. She stays where she lies, rested on her side, with the blankets covering her entirely but she stirs. A small sigh passes her lips, she shifts slightly, but her eyes remain closed.

Howard sits on Forrest's stool, in the corner of the room.

After a long argument, Howard had eventually managed to convince Forrest to wash himself clean of blood and change into some fresh clothes.

The storm continues on, outside, the rain heavily hits the station and never ceases. The howls of the thunder, and lightning, echo through the dark, quiet, and empty station. Howard, who had previously been sipping on a large bottle of moonshine, his sixth already, had been looking out of the window and at the rain which fell miserable down when Maggie had stirred.

Howard returns his attention to Maggie.

He sets his jar down, on the ground, and keeps his gaze set firmly on Maggie.

She murmurs soft, incoherent words which Howard doesn't dare ask her to repeat because she still appears to be sleeping. He believes she's talking in her sleep. He lifts the jar back up, pressing it to his lips, and as he does she speaks, again.

Her eyes stay closed. She remains on her side.

"Forrest..." she calls out.

Howard swallows the liquids quickly before he screws the lid on, stand quickly but quietly from the stool, but as he stands he comes to a halt.

He wants to leave Maggie, to get Forrest because she might be waking up, but Forrest had warned him.

He'd said, "Er...Howard, don't be goin' anywhere..."

And Howard had known that Forrest meant that she shouldn't be alone, because she wasn't well, and so he should stay with her until Forrest returned.

Howard is torn. He watches to fetch Forrest, or to even call out to him, but if he leaves something might happen to Maggie and if he shouts out he risks waking her, or frightening her.

"Forrest...?" she repeats.

As she speaks, she tries to move, her eyes flicker open. At first, she seems dazed, confused almost. Her eyes dart quickly around the room, like she is unsure of where she is and how she came to be here.

Her vision is blurry, in the beginning, but as it clears she is able to view her surroundings.

"Howard...?" she murmurs, still trying to move, to sit upwards.

Howard kneels down by her side, quickly, and tries to stop her from sitting upwards.

"Uh...Don't want to be doin' that, Maggie." Howard states.

She doesn't understand.

"What..." she begins, softly, pausing as she sighs. "What're you doin'..." she asks. "Howard?" she whispers, softly.

"You, uh..You're alright, Maggie." Howard insists.

She smiles, softly but sadly. She lifts her hand up, towards Howard's face, and touches his cheek softly. "You're here, Howard." she whispers. "You're here." she says, softly.

Howard tenses up.

He's tempted to ask her where 'here' is but he doesn't speak, he stays silent, as the next words pass her pale lips.

Her smile falters, her expression shifts in to a much sadder one. She drops her hand from his cheek, quickly, and bites down on her bottom lip as her eyes threaten to swell with tears.

"I'm sorry," she chokes, still trying to sit up in bed.

He prevents her, from sitting up, by placing a gentle, but slightly unsure, hand on her right shoulder.

"Don't want to be doin' that." Howard repeats, with a much lower voice.

"It's all my fault, Howard." she murmurs, softly, as she grabs on for his hands. She holds on to them, tightly. "It is. It's all my damn fault." she says, almost crying.

Howard hesitates. "You ain't done nothin' wrong, Maggie."

"If I had gave them the jar, they would've left." she whispers, keeping her eyes intently set on him. "Wouldn't have hurt him." she adds, with a much softer, but sadder, voice.

"Hurt who, Maggie?" Howard asks, a deep frown set on his tired and worn features.

Howard doesn't hear the door open, he doesn't notice Forrest standing there. He keeps his eyes firmly set on Maggie.

Maggie doesn't notice Forrest's silent presence, in the doorway.

Forrest stays unnoticed, and silent, as his eyes rest on Maggie as she grips on to Howard's hands.

"Forrest." she says, almost sobbing. "It's my fault, Howard. It's always my damn fault." she curses, softly, her grip on his hands tightening.

He doesn't pull away.

"Ain't nothin' your fault, Maggie." he assures her.

She is, clearly, disbelieving of this.

"If I had given them the jar..." she murmurs.

"Who?" Howard asks, finally.

She presses her lips tightly together, the little colour left in them draining away in seconds, before she parts them and speaks.

"They cut him..." she says, like she is in such insufferable pain.

"Forrest?" Howard asks.

He understands, now, that she must be talking about when those men cut Forrest's throat. Howard would never believe it was Maggie's fault, if it's anyone's fault he believes that it is his.

"Those men ain't...They ain't gonna get Forrest, again..." he murmurs, lowly, in an attempt to reassure her or comfort her.

But Howard ain't good at comforting people, or reassuring them. He doesn't like talking about feelings, or anything like that, he doesn't feel comfortable doing it. He doesn't enjoy it, and he never will. He purposefully avoids _those_ conversations and even now, he is still trying to avoiding it.

He'll try to comfort her, because she's family and he owes it to her, but he's finding difficulty in doing so as he doesn't really know how to.

"The blood..." Maggie whispers.

Howard's frown deepens. He believes that she's talking about her own blood, because of the cuts which the Doctor told them he'd bandaged up.

He shakes his head, once. "You just got some cuts, Maggie...It, uh...Ain't...Nothing." he mutters.

"His." she answers, softly.

Howard stays still and silent. He doesn't understand whose blood Maggie is talking about; she only saw Forrest at the hospital, after his throat had been slit, and by then he had been stitched and bandaged up. She didn't see him bleeding, from the shoot-out at the bridge, she only saw him after when he was bandaged up.

"He bled out...So quickly, Howard." Maggie cries.

Tears that she doesn't notice, doesn't feel, spill on to her cheeks. She doesn't have any control over them, she isn't aware that they are even falling.

"He almost died over a jar of moonshine." she cries.

"What...Uh-What..." he murmurs, stuttering.

"I kept scrubbing an' scrubbing at the goddamn car seat, Howard, but it wouldn't go away..." she says, getting angrier at herself for what she did to Forrest.

Howard swallows tightly.

"Uh..." he begins, stopping so that he may clear his throat.

He coughs four times.

"Uh, you, ah...Found him...?" Howard asks.

He doesn't understand, Forrest said he walked to the hospital.

"Came back?" he asks.

She gives him more silence.

"They see you?" he asks, still deeply confused.

"I let them hurt him." she admits, sadly.

"They see you, Maggie?" he asks, with a much louder voice.

"I'm tired, Howard..." she sighs, softly, still holding on to his hands. "I'm so tired..." she whispers, as she slowly sets her head back down on to her pillow. "I'm so tired, Forrest.." she whispers.

She rests on her side, still, the blankets have been pulled up slightly.

Howard shifts like he might move.

"Won't leave me, will you, Howard?" she asks, almost pleading that he doesn't leave her alone.

Loneliness can be powerful, consuming, and frightening.

Howard hesitates. "Ain't...leavin'..." he adds.

She releases Howard's hands slowly, and gently, and after she does she clutches at a chain around her neck which Howard doesn't quite see. He pulls the blankets back up, over her shoulders, and makes an awkward attempt at tucking her in – something he hasn't done since Jack was a young boy.

Howard turns towards his stool, his eyes flicker over the door.

He halts.

The door is open.

He turns towards it slowly, rigidly, and as he does he sets his eyes down upon a still Forrest, whose eyes are empty and expression is hardened and unreadable.

Howard stays still.

He doesn't know what to say, but he has so many questions for Forrest.

Howard and Forrest share a brief look, a silent exchange, before Forrest moves like he might turn away. Howard takes long steps, after Forrest, but these steps are silent so that he does not wake Maggie.

He follows Forrest outside, finding that he is moving before the stairs.

"Where you goin', Forrest?" Howard asks.

Forrest stops, turning slowly to face Howard, but he stays silent.

"Where you goin', Forrest?" Howard repeats.

Still, he gets only a silent response.

"What she talkin' bout, Forrest?" Howard asks, taking a step closer, towards his brother. "She ain't find you, did she?" he asks. "Need to call the doc, she's dreamin-" he begins.

"Ain't no need for that, Howard." Forrest states, calmly. "Doc said he'd be coming 'round in the mornin'." he adds.

"You hear her?" Howard asks.

"Mmmm..." Forrest grunts.

"Then, you heard what she said, 'bout findin' you, scrubbin' the blood..." Howard mutters, lowly, taking another step closer towards Forrest. "She ain't makin' any sense, Forrest." he states.

Forrest shifts, ever so slightly, in his stance. He continues to hold Howard's unwavering gaze, his eyes never looking away from his brother's, but he doesn't answer Howard because he doesn't know what to say back.

Unfortunately, for Forrest, his silence is an answer to Howard's questions.

"Why...You, er...Mmm...Said you walked, Forrest?" Howard asks.

"Mmm...Ain't your business, Howard." Forrest replies, with an incredibly calm and impassive tone.

This doesn't sit well with Howard.

"Er, it ain't- it ain't none of my business?" Howard asks, unintentionally raising his voice.

"Howard..." Forrest murmurs.

"Ain't none of my goddamn business?" he asks, all but shouting at Forrest.

Howard is feeling such disbelief; Forrest is his family, Maggie is his family too, and they kept something from him and he doesn't understand why. He doesn't understand why Forrest would lie about walking all the way from Station to the hospital, he doesn't understand why Maggie wouldn't want anyone knowing that she found him.

"Howard..." Forrest repeats, wanting to calm him down before he wakes Maggie or Jack up.

"You're my brother, my goddamn brother, Forrest." Howard states, as he continues to pace.

"Howard." Forrest says, sternly, and with such a strong voice that Howard stops pacing.

He looks up, slowly, to find Forrest standing still before him. His face is more unreadable, his eyes emptier, and there is a clear warning in his eyes; a warning that Howard lower his voice before he wakes someone up.

Howard leans forward, closer to Forrest, and speaks with a lower voice so only he will hear.

"I ain't keep nothin' from you, Forrest." Howard says, almost maddeningly, before he pulls backwards and moves like he might head downstairs.

Forrest steps as Howard does, preventing him from going downstairs.

Howard is angry, that something was kept from him and even now it's still being kept from him.

"Mmmm..." Forrest grunts. "Where...You goin', Howard?" he asks.

Howard sighs. "Downstairs, Forrest." he replies.

"Mm...Don't you be leavin', now..." Forrest murmurs.

Forrest tells Howard that it's better that he doesn't leave now because the weather still isn't good, and it's not going to ease up for a few days, and with both Maggie and Jack sick, Forrest might need some help taking care of them.

Howard nods curtly before turning away and moving down the stairs, it seems, as fast as he possibly can. He reaches for three jars of moonshine, behind the counter, almost dropping the third. He sets them down on to the bar, takes a seat on the stool, and cracks open the first lid. He presses the jar to his lips and swallows as much of the contents as he possibly can before needing to breathe.

He exhales, loudly, before he removes his hat from his head and tosses it, carelessly, on to the bench.

It's going to be a long night, Howard thinks, as he hears Jack calling out upstairs.

As Jack continues to shout out, for someone, Howard groans loudly as he realizes that Forrest must be otherwise busy.

Howard stomps upstairs, jar of moonshine in his hand like it's permanently stuck there.

As he enters Jack's room, Howard says, "What you hollerin' 'bout, _boy_?"

Jack straightens up; he's sitting on the edge of his bed, the blankets off of his body, his face pale and his body shivering. He looks scared, scared of Howard who all but growled at him.

Howard understands why Jack seems fearful as his eyes drop to the floor; the mug of warm coffee has been knocked and now runs over the wooden floorboards.

Howard's eyes dart up to Jack's.

Jack draws in a slow, breath of air before he manages a small smile at his brother, hoping he might see the amusement in this situation.

Howard doesn't appear amused.

He bends down, snatches the mug up, and finds that all of the coffee has been knocked over.

Jack's smile remains, as he lifts his hands, cautiously, up in the air.

"Now, Howard..." Jack begins.

"What'd I tell you 'bout not gettin' outta that goddamn bed, hm, Jack?" Howard snaps.

He moves forward, scoops Jack's legs up while still holding tightly on to the moonshine in his right hand, and forces him so he's lying back down.

"Easy, Howard, easy!" Jack calls back.

"Move a foot outta the bed, again..." Howard begins, as he quickly pulls the blankets up over Jack. "And I'll put a bullet in your goddamn foot an' you won't be walkin' anywhere." he adds.

Jack appears serious, his smile has vanished entirely from his face.

"You gonna tuck me in, then, Howard?" he asks, his grin reappearing.

Howard shoots him a look.

"Gonna smack that smile off your face, real soon, Jack." Howard warns.

Jack's smile falters as Howard turns from the room, disappearing in seconds.

He leaves the coffee on the floor, but takes the mug with him.

Howard returns seconds later, looking calmer than he did only moments earlier, with a sponge in his hands and no jar of moonshine.

He kneels down on the floor, releasing a low groan as his back hurts slightly from the way he passed out last night.

Jack straightens up in bed, as he catches this sound passing his brother's lips, but he doesn't dare move a single toe or finger out of the bed.

"Er, Howard...I'm real sorry, 'bout the mess an' 'bout you havin' to clean it." Jack says, sincerely, with a much softer tone.

Howard doesn't even glance up.

He grunts in response, as he continues scrubbing and cleaning at the floor.

"Didn't mean to make a mess, Howard..Was reachin' for it an' it slipped right outta my hand." Jack adds, still watching as his brother cleans the floor.

Howard's eyes flicker around the room for something to wipe it off with, something to dry the floor with. He reaches for one of Jack's old shirt and uses that to dry it, he receives no objection from Jack because the shirt that Howard's using needs to be washed anyway.

Howard doesn't know where to find a proper cloth, to dry the floors with, but the shirt does a sufficient job and in a few minutes it is almost entirely dry.

Howard stands slowly, ignoring the pain in his back and the crick in his neck as he does.

"I'm real sorry, Howard." Jack repeats.

"Didn't make a goddamn mess, Jack." Howard answers, sharply, as he lifts his eyes to his brother's. "Coffee..Ain't nothin'...It's cleaned now, alright?" Howard murmurs.

"But I'm real sorry, Howard." he repeats, because he is really sorry.

Howard grunts. "Don't give a damn 'bout the mess, Jack." Howard replies, loudly.

What he means to say, but doesn't, is that he cares about Jack and not the coffee, or the mess, and even though he doesn't say it Jack knows that he means it.

"What you doin' up, anyway?" Howard asks.

Jack looks like he might speak but he doesn't, because Howard isn't finished.

"I said, Jack, I said don't get outta that damn bed or Forrest gonna have your head for it." Howard states, taking a slight step towards Jack. "What'd you think you was gonna do, anyway? Clean it up 'fore Forrest an' I could see it? Damn stupid of you, Jack." he adds, with a lower tone.

A silence falls between the brothers.

"Now..." Howard begins. "You ain't movin' from that bed, 'till the doc says." he says, not asking but rather stating that Jack will not be moving from that bed until the doctor says so.

Jack nods.

Howard pauses, drawing in a long breath of air as he does.

"Er..." he murmurs, scratching at the back of his neck. "You...Mmm...Alright, Jack?" he asks, finally.

"Yeah, I'm alright, Howard." Jack replies.

"Be back..." Howard murmurs. "With more coffee." he adds, before he turns away and quickly exits the room.

Howard moves around, loudly, in the kitchen as he searches for what he will need to make Jack a new, fresh, coffee. He glances up at the doorway to find Forrest, downstairs.

"What you doin'?" Howard asks, loudly. "Ain't you 'sposed to be upstairs with Maggie?" he asks.

And then, Howard realizes that Forrest came through the door to his study, not the stairway. So, he was never upstairs, with Maggie.

The frown set on Howard's features deepens.

"Mmm..." Forrest murmurs. "What you..er...doin', Howard?" he asks, his eyes flickering over Howard standing behind the bench.

This is a rare sight; when Howard came back home, and it was just three of them, Forrest would do all of the cooking because Jack was too young to and Howard was too drunk to do it. When Maggie came, she did the cooking. But she wasn't well enough to do it now.

Still, it was a rare, almost odd, sight to see Howard Bondurant, scraggly beard, messy hair, unkempt appearance, bloodshot eyes, in the kitchen.

"Gettin' Jack...coffee." Howard murmurs. "Why ain't you upstairs?" he asks.

Forrest ignores his question.

"Don't need to be doin' that, Howard." Forrest states, stepping towards the kitchen as he speaks.

Forrest means that he'll do it, he'll make Jack the coffee, because he doesn't expect Howard to.

"Think I can make a damn coffee, Forrest." Howard replies, sharply and loudly.

"Lower your voice, Howard." Forrest instructs.

"What...Mmm..." Howard begins, muttering softly.

"Somethin' botherin' you, Howard?" Forrest asks, with a lowered tone as he takes slight steps towards his brother.

"Mm." Howard grunts. "You keepin' stuff from me, Forrest, an' were brothers – we ain't sposed to do that." he states, accusingly, glancing up at Forrest briefly.

"Ain't your business, Howard." Forrest says, with a tone which is almost warning him to drop it.

"You're my business, Forrest, an' so is Maggie." Howard retorts. "Why she say she drove you, hm, to that hospital?" he asks.

Howard receives silence.

"You lied." Howard says.

"Leave it, Howard." Forrest warns.

Howard sighs, loudly.

"Why ain't you upstairs, Forrest?" Howard asks.

"Leave it be, Howard." Forrest, sternly, repeats.

"Alright, Forrest." Howard says, harshly slamming down the mug on the bench as he speaks.

He turns to the counter, scooping up several jars of moonshine, and then he reaches for the two jars he left on the bench. He moves towards the stairs, Forrest steps as he does.

Howard meets Forrest's gaze immediately.

"Keep outta my way, Forrest." Howard warns, with a much darker tone.

"Mmm..." Forrest begins. "Don't want to be doin' that, Howard." Forrest says, he doesn't think Howard should be drinking that much.

"Drink as much as I want to, Forrest, 'cause it's my own damn business." Howard states.

Still, as Howard steps so does Forrest, and he continues to block Howard's path.

"Want to move outta my god damn way, Forrest, 'fore I make you." Howard growls.

Forrest steps out of Howard's way and watches as his brother disappears upstairs.

* * *

Howard spends the rest of the afternoon, and the night, shut in his room, drinking and drinking his way through as much liquor as he could. He doesn't come downstairs, he doesn't check in on Jack or Maggie, and he doesn't say a word. He drinks in silence, because sometimes silence is a good thing.

Jack spends the time sleeping, comfortably and warmly, in his bed after he eagerly drank the coffee which a silent Forrest carried in for him.

Jack had apologized to Forrest, for getting wet and for creating a mess. Forrest had grunted, in response, and told Jack to get some sleep once he was done with his drink. Jack did as was told, not that he had much choice because he was exhausted and soon enough he was sleeping peacefully.

Forrest visited Maggie frequently.

She didn't move, at all, through the afternoon. She didn't wake, either. She stayed resting, on her side, with her eyes closed and the blankets covering her. Forrest had sat on his stool for a few hours, watching over her, and as he did he thought she almost looked peaceful but her pale skin, her slightly sickly appearance, led him to believe that she was far from peaceful.

He felt guilty. Forrest blamed himself, for her being out in weather such as this. He'd pushed her, for answers she didn't want to give or wasn't ready to give, when he should have left it alone. He'd pushed her in to the cold rain, in to the sharp rocks which she cut her skin on, and he knew the guilt was rightfully his and he would not believe otherwise.

Forrest was tired.

He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, he didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was tired, exhausted almost. His body was tired, from the wounds of the past weeks. He needed sleep but he wouldn't dare sleep a second until Maggie and Jack were better, until he could rest peacefully and now that they would be fine.

He couldn't sleep while Howard was off, drinking himself half to death, in his bedroom. He needed someone to keep an eye on Maggie and Jack, and Howard wasn't up to that task right now.

Despite that a part of Forrest had wanted to tell Howard that Maggie had driven him, he did not want to tell Howard the other part, about what those men to her when she came back.

He hoped Howard would drop it, and was relieved slightly in recalling the knowledge that Howard was not like Jack when it came to things like this.

Jack was like a dog with a bone. If Forrest went to Howard, and told him that he wasn't keeping secrets and that he should, please, drop it, then he hoped Howard would be reasonable enough to agree to his terms.

But Howard wasn't always a reasonable man. Sometimes, Forrest didn't know what to expect with his brother. His moods changed often, mostly without warning, and these moods were usually dependent on how liquor the eldest brother had consumed.

And tonight, Forrest knew he had drunk a lot, too much. But Forrest would never tell Howard not to drink. He knew Howard drank excessively, and that it wasn't good for him, but Forrest wouldn't tell him what to do.

He knew Howard was deeply troubled and that drinking was his way to deal with it, his escape, and Forrest would never take that away from his brother.

Forrest stands from his stool, slowly, and moves towards the door. He pauses and glances back, once more, at Maggie before he opens the door and steps through it. He doesn't close it entirely, because he'll be back soon enough, he'll always come back to Maggie Beauford.

Forrest walks to Howard's room, hearing only silence, thunder, and rain as he does.

The station is empty, silent, and dark.

He doesn't knock on Howard's door, because he has a suspicion about how he will find his brother. Forrest finds Howard just as he thought he would; slumped on the ground, against the wall, empty bottles surrounding him. He expects Howard to be passed out, to be sleeping, but he isn't.

Howard's eyes flutter like they might open but he leaves them shut.

Forrest makes his way towards where Howard rests. As he reaches Howard's side, he half kneels down, bends over, and forcefully grabs Howard by his upper arms.

Howard doesn't fight, he doesn't speak, instead he allows Forrest to lift him upwards.

Howard's slumped body isn't difficult for Forrest to lift, he's done it too many times before, but Forrest is still recovering from the shoot-out and so he is unable to move Howard with as much ease as he used to. He drags Howard's body towards his bed, slowly, and once he is finally able to put his body down, he lowers Howard's body down.

"What...you...What're you doin'...Forrest?" Howard slurs, with a loud voice, as he stirs and appears to become confused about where he is.

Forrest grunts but says nothing else.

"Forrest..." Howard murmurs, his eyes still closed.

"Mmm?" Forrest answers.

Forrest lifts Howard's legs up on to the bed, first, and then his arms. He pulls up a blanket, which doesn't appear to be used frequently and Forrest doubts it would be used considering Howard gets little rest, over Howard's legs. He lifts the blanket so it's covering his chest.

"I seen...it...Forrest." Howard mutters, slurring.

Forrest doesn't bother answering, as Howard often mutters incoherent, meaningless, words when he's this drunk, and it's been a long time since he's been _this_ drunk.

Forrest steps away from Howard and moves towards the empty jars scattered on the floor. He pauses before he kneels down, slowly, releasing a slight groan of pain as he does so.

Forrest pulls together the jars, and the lids, so he may carry them downstairs. He thinks Howard has done enough drinking for all of them tonight, he doesn't need anymore.

"I seen it..." Howard says, almost choking on the word.

"Sure you did, Howard." Forrest answers.

Sometimes, when Howard gets really drunk like this, he might shout out. This was when he wasn't sleeping in the station.

Forrest remembers the first time he heard Howard shouting out, all but crying, like he had seen something horrible and Forrest had come to realize, after his brother had come home from the war a changed man, that he had seen many horrible things.

"I seen...Fields, and uh...Tracks. The tracks, Forrest, I seen 'em." Howard murmurs, shifting in his bed, tossing, turning, but keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Forrest stiffens up.

"Go to sleep, Howard." Forrest instructs, because he doesn't think they should be talking about such things as this while Howard is out of it.

Forrest returns to Maggie's room, after he puts Howard's jars downstairs, because he'll always return to her.

He finds that she is still resting, peacefully, and as he slowly steps inside the room he notices something that he previously missed; the blanket has slipped down, slightly, so he is able to view her hands and he finds that she is still clutching on, tightly, to her wedding ring.

Forrest is uncertain; he finds this evokes a feeling inside of him that isn't sure of. He feels a guilt, because he caused her this pain and yet she still loves him, she still clutches to her wedding ring, she still stays with him.

He feels undeserving of a woman like Maggie Beauford; a beautiful, caring, kind, woman who loves him unquestionably and without a reason to. She loves him because she want to, not because she wants to, and he loves her because he does. There's no other way to explain it, no explanation.

He loves her because she is who she is, because he fell for her, because he has never and will never feel this way about someone else.

There could never be someone else, only her.

He hesitates before he bends over; he lifts his hand to her forehead to feel for a fever and he finds that her head isn't hot, which is a relief. He brushes the hair off of her face with his right hand, bends over further, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

Forrest leaves her, only momentarily, and heads downstairs towards the kitchen. He fixes up Howard's jars, washing them and leaving them empty on the bench so that, when Maggie heals, she can put fruits, jams, or whatever she wants in them.

He has a look around the kitchen, as he decides what he will cook for dinner. He'll wake Maggie and Jack up, in a few hours, and he'll try to wake Howard up but that usually ends one of two ways; the first, he gets angry, disturbs those around him, and gets up or he refuses to wake and remains asleep.

Forrest hears a knocking, on the front doors of the station which are locked, and halts. He turns slowly to find a figure, with a large coat covering their face and body like they are attempting to stay dry.

He walks slowly towards the door and unlocks the screen door.

"We ain't open." Forrest states.

"I'm shiverin' to death out here, sir. If I could trouble you for something warm." the man replies.

Forrest is reluctant.

"Come on, sir, please. I just need some help." the man pleads.

Forrest sighs.

"Cup of coffee, then you're out." Forrest states, with a somewhat angered tone, before he unlocks both doors.

The man drops the coat, as he enters, and steps inside.

As he enters the station, Forrest sees a flicker of something similar in this man. He can't place his finger on it, he can't recall what it is, but something about him appears familiar.

Forrest wants this man gone, from the station, so he stops thinking about it and turns his back on him.

He halts at the sound of a gun being loaded.

"You're Forrest Bondurant, ain't you?" the man asks. "My name is Kenneth Lyle." he states, loudly.

Kenneth Lyle, Forrest thinks, must have some relation to Oliver Lyle.

Forrest turns slightly, his hand slowly slides down to the pocket of his cardigan – and then, it hits him. He took off his cardigan, with his gun in one pocket and his brass knuckles in the other, because his cardigan was wet and Howard made him change.

His gun and brass knuckles are upstairs in the bathroom. Forrest silently curses Howard, and then he curses himself.

"Turn 'round slowly, Forrest Bondurant." Kenneth orders.

"Mmm...What you here for, Kenneth?" Forrest asks.

"I want to see that bitch." Kenneth growls.

Forrest doesn't answer.

"You know who I'm talkin' 'bout, don't play stupid with me, Forrest." Kenneth angrily orders. "She was here, Oliver said it himself." he adds.

Forrest is disbelieving of this, since it is highly unlikely that Oliver told Kenneth this as the dead cannot speak to the living, and the living cannot speak to the dead.

"Ain't playin' nothin' with you." Forrest answers, finally, with a dangerous voice.

His voice is frighteningly calm.

"Where is she?" Kenneth repeats, loudly.

"Ain't here." Forrest states.

"That bitch is here. Oliver said so, himself. You see, he wrote me letters, while he was stayin' in Franklin. Said he tracked her down, livin' with some fuckin' hick brothers, Bondurant's – and that would be you, right?" Kenneth asks. He pauses, momentarily, before he adds, "Thought so. An' where are your brothers?"

"Ain't here." Forrest replies.

And as he answers, he silently prays that neither Howard nor Jack will come down stairs. But, above all, he prays that Maggie doesn't wake, he prays she won't come down alone.

Forrest believed he could do this alone, that he could deal with it by himself, but he would later realize he was wrong.

"Oliver said she was stayin' here, that she was threatening him and you boys were beatin' him. Said he was worried 'bout his life. And then, now, he's just gone? Vanishing from thin fucking air?" Kenneth asks, moving forward and placing the gun in front of Forrest's face. "Don't think so. I think that bitch got rid of him, just like she got rid of the little one." Kenneth adds, almost growling at Forrest.

He pauses, drawing in a sharp breath of air. "So, I'm gonna ask you one more time, Forrest Bondurant, where is she?" Kenneth asks.

"She ain't here." Forrest insists, somehow remaining calm.

"I don't like that answer." Kenneth counters.

"Don't care 'bout that." Forrest replies.

Kenneth frowns. "What?" he asks.

"She died." Forrest states, because he wants to protect her and this could be his way of doing that.

"No, she didn't." Kenneth counters.

"Mmm...Right there..." Forrest murmurs, gesturing towards the spot of blood on the floor that won't fade.

The blood, Maggie's blood, won't disappear despite how hard she scrubbed at it. Forrest stares at the blood stain for quite some time until he speaks again.

"He killed her." he states, because Oliver did kill a part of Maggie Beauford.

Forrest only hopes one day that _that_ part of her, that Oliver killed, might come back to life, might come home, might come back to him.

"You're lying." Kenneth says, accusingly.

"I ain't...Mmmm...Walked in on your brother, had a knife to her stomach...Sliced her right open." Forrest says, painfully reliving the memory as he speaks.

"You're lying. You're a fucking liar. She's here, ain't she? She's fucking here. She's a killer, she deserves to die for what she's done." Kenneth says, still waving the gun around in Forrest's face.

Forrest knows he won't pull it, he doesn't seem like a man who could even if he's trying desperately to be.

"She ain't killed no one." Forrest answers.

"Where's my brother, then?" Kenneth questions.

"I said she ain't killed no one." Forrest repeats.

"I don't believe you." Kenneth growls. "She ain't dead, she's here." he says, all but screaming.

"Gonna fire that or you just gonna wave it around?" Forrest asks, and as he speaks he steps closer towards Kenneth.

Kenneth's face shows how clearly intimidated he feels by something so simple as Forrest stepping forward, leaning over him.

"Mmm...You see, I ain't got no one here, no one to live for..." Forrest begins. "So, either fire the gun or get the fuck outta here before I put a cleaver in your fucking skull." he threatens; he is almost unable to control his anger.

Forrest is furious; furious that this man has shown his face around here, waved a gun around in his home, called Maggie horrible things and threatened to kill her.

Kenneth laughs. "You think I'm that stupid to put a fucking bullet in Forrest Bondurant, the man who survived all those damn bullets from the bridge shoot-out?"

Kenneth moves quickly; he grabs the carving knife, off of the bench, and jabs it at Forrest. First, he misses, but in the scuffle that continues, as Forrest tries to overpower Kenneth for his gun, he gets Forrest.

Kenneth pushes the carving knife in to Forrest; he stabs him in his stomach, first, and then pulls the carving knife out again and puts it in his chest.

The blood spills down heavily, uncontrollably, and in seconds Forrest knows that he is losing too much blood.

Forrest stops moving. He stumbles forward, slightly, and grips on to Kenneth like he can't stand, like he needs the help, and this causes Kenneth to let his guard down. That is, until, he realizes he is no longer holding his gun.

Forrest managed to grab the gun from Kenneth.

Forrest pulls the trigger; the first bullet hits Kenneth the chest, he fires again and hits him in the leg, and then the ankle, and then Forrest stumbles backwards.

With the carving knife still protruding from his chest, with the blood still pouring down his body. like the incessant rain pouring down outside, Forrest stumbles backwards and slumps down. He slides down the front of the door, smearing blood down in, and collapses on the floor.

Forrest doesn't notice, or see, Kenneth staggering out of the house and back to his car. He doesn't notice anything around him, he can't see anything but the carving knife sticking in his chest.

He wants to pull it out but as he lifts his hands to do so, he finds that he is weak, too weak, and his hands are shaking, trembling, and he doesn't believe that he could pull it without causing himself further damage.

He tries to stop the bleeding but the blood won't stop; covers his fingers, submerges them, paints them red and stains his body crimson.

Forrest is losing it; losing control, slowly losing consciousness, losing blood and he fears that he is losing his life.

The wounds are deep but he believes if he had sustained them before the shoot-out, before he had sustained the deep bullet wounds, he might survive them.

He believes his chances are low, now, too low – low like his voice, as he tries to call out, for help, for someone, for a saviour.

He calls out to Howard first, and then Jack, and then, lastly, he calls out to Maggie.

Perhaps, Forrest believes, he is undeserving of help, undeserving of his brothers and his wife. Perhaps, he believes now as he rests in a thick pool of his own blood, he is undeserving of a saviour.

* * *

**A/N: Hi there. **

**Firstly, I apologise for the delay in updating. I hope that you like this chapter and I apologise if there are any spelling mistakes and/or errors. Secondly, I'd like to thank everyone who reads and/or reviews my story, your support means a lot and knowing that you are reading my work is a great feeling.**

**Dear Guest Reviewer; guest; who posted on chapter 13-  
Hi! Thank you for reading and reviewing. I'm so happy you think it's great.**

**Thanks all for reading & I hope you enjoy reading it.**

* * *

My thoughts, prayers, and well-wishes are with all of those who have recently been impacted by the tragedies in Boston and Texas. We are all thinking of you, sending you positive thoughts, and are praying for you. You are resilient, and strong, and you will make it through these difficult times.

My deepest thoughts and prayers xox


	15. And it's over

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I own only the O/C characters and ideas created of this story.**

* * *

A sharp sound ringing through the air, which was eerily similar to the sound of a gun being fired, was what woke her from her rest, which was far from peaceful. She woke sore, her body aching with each breath that passed her lips.

Her head pounded.

She felt hot, sickly, and sweat trickled down her forehead and her neck. She felt unwell, tired, but above all she felt empty and alone.

She woke clutching at the chain around her neck, she realized now that she had been clutching at it so tight that it left an imprint on her hand. She opened her palm and stretched her fingers out before her eyes flickered over the room she was in.

The room was dark, she felt trapped despite that it was empty and the door was left wide open. Her heart was already heavily pounding away when she the second bang, and then a third, and she knew then that it was a gun being fired.

She didn't believe this was happening.

For some reason, Maggie believed she was dreaming.

She had been dreaming about her mama and Thomas, and they weren't with her anymore.

She moved slowly from the bed, setting her bare feet down on to the cold, harsh, unwelcoming floorboards. She stood quickly, too quickly for what she had put herself through, and she stumbled forward, reaching for the wall.

Maggie turned towards the door and followed the sound.

She moved slowly out of her room and towards the stairs. All was dark in the station, all was empty, and because of this she was almost certain she was dreaming. Had it been real life, Maggie believed, she would have come across Howard, Jack, or Forrest by now.

"Forrest?" she calls out, almost surprised by the sound of her own voice.

She sounds like a tired, vulnerable, scared stranger.

She moves down the staircase slowly, because she is unable to move any faster. Her fingers remain tightly on the railing as she took the staircase one step at a time.

"Forrest?" she calls, louder.

Maggie starts to panic. She panics because she can't find Forrest, because she heard the unmistakable sound of gunshots, because if this was her dream he would be here with her.

But he isn't.

Forrest isn't here and it scares Maggie.

She moves downstairs and through the archway, in to the kitchen.

She comes to an immediate halt as she feels like her heart has stopped beating in her chest in this very second, like she cannot breathe any air, like her world is rapidly shattering, like this isn't a dream.

She knows, when she sets her eyes upon him, that it isn't a dream because she wouldn't dream of this.

She finds Forrest slumped, his body crumbled, soaking in a pool of his own blood. There's a gun on the floor, beside him, and the blood is slowly moving towards it. The handle of the carving knife sticks out of his chest, his chest which is covered almost entirely with blood.

She cries out as she sees him, using what little strength she has to move towards him.

As Forrest's eyes flutter open he thinks that he is dreaming her; she stands before him, for a second, with her soft orange curls, porcelain skin, in a long, loose, soft, creamy white night gown.

But he knows that this is reality, as much as he wishes it wasn't, because of the cry that passes her lips.

"Forrest, Forrest." she stutters, running to this side.

She kneels down, kneeling in his blood, beside him. Her hands are shaking, trembling uncontrollably, and she is for a moment so shocked that she doesn't know what to do.

"Forrest," she repeats, tapping at his cheeks.

His eyes flicker but stay closed.

"Forrest." she repeats, more sternly.

His eyes slowly open.

He's not with it entirely.

He can see her, he can hear her, but he feels too weak, too tired, to respond. Somehow, he finds the strength to whisper her name.

"Maggie..." he says, so softly she almost misses it.

She moves to pull the knife out of his chest but as she does his hand catches hers.

He believes it's too late.

"Maggie..." he murmurs.

"No, no, Forrest." she says, like she has just read his thoughts. "It's not too late. We need, we need help." she stutters, the tears falling uncontrollably down her cheeks.

"Howard!" Maggie cries out, more tears falling.

She tries to keep the pressure on his wounds but she can't find them, there's too much blood, and she can't remove the knife because she's too unsteady and he could bleed out.

"Howard!" she yells, almost hyperventilating now.

"Maggie..." Forrest whispers.

She takes his bloodied hands and holds them, tightly.

"I'm here, Forrest. Don't. Don't you dare leave me, Forrest Bondurant. You hear me? Don't you dare. You promised me. You said it was the last time. You said it yourself. You can't leave me." she cries, lowering her head down on to his shoulder.

She cries in to his shoulder, becoming weaker, more fragile now.

Forrest feels himself slipping away.

He's almost gone, he almost cannot feel her touch, he almost cannot feel anything.

"You can't leave me, Forrest. You can't. I'm sorry, Forrest. I'm sorry for everythin' I did an' said, an' I need you, Forrest. You can't leave me." she begs.

She lifts her head as she calls out, cries, pleas and begs for help.

"Jack!" she shouts.

She chokes on her words as her breathing becomes deeper, heavier, and her tears fall harder. Forrest's breathing slows down, too much, but he somehow manages to keep his eyes open.

"Maggie..." he whispers.

She turns back to face him, their eyes meeting instantly.

"You ain't saying goodbye to me, Forrest, you ain't." she sobs, her bottom lip quivering.

"Maggie?" Jack calls out.

Jack finds Maggie kneeling on the ground.

She spins around, her cheek, arms and throat smeared with blood.

"Forrest?" Jack's voice breaks.

He runs towards Maggie as he catches sight of the blood that pools around the two of them.

He only comes to view Forrest's face as he kneels down beside him, he swallows tightly as his eyes fall to the knife in his chest.

Jack's fighting his tears.

Maggie can't control her tears.

"Jack, we gotta put pressure on the wounds." Maggie cries, taking Jack's numb hands and placing them down on the area that she believes there is a cut.

Forrest is fading fast.

Jack bites down on his bottom lip. "Forrest, you're-you're-" he stutters but finds he can't finish the words.

"Need you to call the doctor, Jack." Maggie begs.

But they both know he won't get here in time, they need to get Forrest to the hospital. It's closer and they will get here much quicker than the doctor can get here.

Maggie and Jack both know they aren't strong enough to carry Forrest out to the car, they need Howard.

"Need to get Howard." Maggie states, her voice still shaky.

Jack doesn't want to leave Forrest.

His eyes move quickly, over his older brother's wounds and the blood which stains him, before he meets Forrest's gaze. He holds it for a moment before he jumps up and runs upstairs.

"Mmm..." Forrest grunts, drawing in a sharp and painful breath of air. "Sorry..." he murmurs.

"No." Maggie chokes on the word. "You ain't saying your goodbyes, Forrest." Maggie replies, sadly.

But as she looks down at Forrest, she sees that his eyes are closed.

"Forrest..." she almost freezes.

She shakes him gently but he doesn't move.

"Forrest." she cries heavier, harder, now as she tries to wake him.

Jack bolts upstairs.

He misses several of the stairs, taking them four or five at a time. He trips as he reaches the top of the stairs and stumbles forward, bloody hands, tear stained cheeks. He barges in to Howard's room, his legs unsteady, his hands trembling, his hands dripping with his brother's blood.

"Howard, Howard!" Jack shouts.

Howard grunts but doesn't get up.

"Howard, Forrest ain't good. He needs you." Jack cries, unaware of the few tears which spilled on to his cheeks.

Howard glances up at Jack.

He appears to wake up, at the sight of him, and rolls over so he may face him.

"What'd I tell you 'bout getting out-" Howard begins.

He halts.

Jack's hands are covered with blood.

"Forrest ain't good, Howard, he's bleedin' badly, it's everywhere." Jack stutters, with such heavy breathing he almost can't get all the words up.

Howard gets up immediately, he stumbles a little but in seconds he's on his feet and leading the way downstairs.

"No, no, no, no." Maggie cries loudly, her painful sobs echoing through the cold house.

When Howard enters the kitchen, the first thing that he sees is blood.

Then, he sees Maggie and Forrest and almost stops walking; Maggie has pulled Forrest up so he's lying on her lap, his eyes are closed, his head is cradled in her arms and she's crying.

She's sobbing, and crying, and pleading with an unconscious Forrest.

"No, no, Forrest." she wails. "Forrest, don't." she begs.

Howard tries to move Forrest without telling Maggie he is doing so.

She panics, her grip on him tightens, and her cries worsen.

Jack kneels down beside Maggie, next to his brother's limp body.

"Gotta take him to the hospital, Maggie, or else he'll bleed out." Jack says.

She continues to shake her head, the tears fall down heavier, her hands shaker harder and her grip on Forrest Bondurant tightens.

"No, no, no." she cries.

She doesn't believe it's possible for Forrest Bondurant to lose anymore blood, he's already lost too much.

Howard kneels down in front of Maggie.

He reaches for Forrest but as he does her right hand catches his and holds it.

He meets her gaze with a reluctance, like he's afraid of truly acknowledging how fragile she looks, like he's afraid that if he sees the fear in her eyes then he will feel it himself.

"Howard, no." she whispers gently. "You can't, Howard. No, no, please. Please, Howard. Don't take him." she cries weakly.

"Maggie, gotta let me take him." Howard says finally, after coughing loudly and deeply so to clear his throat.

"Maggie..." he whispers. "Let me help him."

She lets him.

She allows Howard and Jack take him, despite that she cries and collapses, placing her head in her hands the moment they take him from her arms.

She never wants to let him go.

But she has to because he's not well.

Howard removes his jacket, slowly pulls the carving knife out of Forrest's chest, and straps his shirt around his brother's chest.

Maggie doesn't watch this. She can't. She doesn't look as Jack and Howard carry Forrest's bloodied body out in to the rain, to the first car that they reach. They place him inside, laying him down flatly, on his back, on the car seat.

Howard orders Jack to stay home with Maggie, and said he'd call with any news from the hospital. Jack had wanted to object but he didn't. He didn't object because he couldn't say anything, he was stunned, shocked, and he was covered in his brother's blood.

After getting in the car, slamming the door shut, and starting up the engine, Howard had moved Forrest's body; his hands had been shaking so badly he wasn't sure he could drive but he had to, he had to get Forrest to the hospital.

Howard pulled Forrest's body closer, towards him. He moved him so the back of his head was resting on Howard's knees, so he could keep pressure to the wounds with his right hand and drive with his left.

His head was throbbing, threatening to split his head open, but he didn't care about that, he didn't care about himself. Howard cared about Forrest and knew he had to get him to the hospital as soon as he could.

* * *

Maggie had wanted to clean the floors, she had wanted to wipe the blood off of the timber, off of herself, and then she had wanted to be with Forrest.

But Jack had been strong. He had been confident, somehow, when he had told Maggie she was to head upstairs, clean herself, and get in bed because there was nothing they could do.

When Maggie left, Jack had crumbled.

His hands had shook beyond the point of control, he had to bite down on his lip to stop the tears he feared would fall, and he had to concentrate solely on the task before him; he scrubbed and scrubbed at the floor until the blood faded, and eventually it was gone.

After an hour of scrubbing he was finished.

No word from Howard, no word about Forrest, and no sounds upstairs from Maggie. Jack felt alone as he moved upstairs. He glanced in to her bedroom and found her bed empty.

He moves towards the bathroom door and knocks three times before he opens it. He finds her sitting on the floor, her knees up to her chest, her head resting on her knees, her eyes open staring at the trail of blood she left on the floor.

She hasn't washed, she hasn't moved in the hour she has been upstairs.

She looks sick, pale and unsteady, Jack notes, as he cautiously kneels down in front of her.

"Maggie, you gotta clean yourself." he says.

Her eyes meet his.

"Is Forrest home?" she asks.

Jack solemnly shakes his head.

She lowers her gaze.

"He'll be home soon, Maggie." he lies.

This catches her attention, and she lifts her eyes to find his.

"Will he?" she asks.

Jack nods.

"He'll be home real soon, Maggie." he states, trying to convince both Maggie and himself as he speaks.

She manages a small smile.

"But, you gotta clean up before he does, okay?" Jack says.

She nods quickly.

"Alright." she answers.

"And then, you have to get in to bed." he states.

She hesitates.

"When's he comin' home, Jack?" she asks.

"Real soon." he smiles.

She smiles back, at him, and leans forward, taking Jack's hands in hers as she does.

"He's comin' home." she smiles.

"He is, but you have to-" he begins.

"I'll clean myself, change, an' get in to bed." Maggie states.

"That's good, Maggie, that's real good. But what you gotta do when you're in bed is sleep." he says.

She frowns ever so slightly but her smile remains, and she continues to hold his hands tightly.

"Why, Jack?" she asks, softly.

"'Cause you don't wanna be tired when Forrest gets home." Jack says, because that's the only thing he can think of. "You're gonna want to see him, ain't you?" he asks.

She nods.

"You're gonna want to talk to him?" Jack questions.

Maggie nods again.

"Then, you need to rest so you won't be tired." he says.

Her smile widens. "You're a good boy, Jack, a good brother." she smiles, gently patting his cheek.

She moves to stand from the floor but finds that her knees are weak, her legs are unreliable and unsteady, and she is dizzy.

"Here." Jack says.

He allows Maggie to hold on, to his wrist, as he assists her in standing.

"You're good like your brothers, Jack." she smiles, still holding his hands.

Jack gives her hands one last squeeze before he releases them. He moves cautiously, almost reluctantly, towards the door.

"You know what you gotta do, Maggie?" he asks.

She nods.

* * *

Howard can't stop himself from pacing the hallways.

He moves quickly, taking fast steps, his chest heaving in and out, his hands fiddling and nervously playing with his hat, all the while he's desperate for a drink. He needs something to take the edge of, to calm his nerves, to stop his mind from racing over the possibilities in his head.

Howard doesn't understand how Forrest came to be lying on the station floor, bleeding out badly, with a carving knife in his stomach, and a bloodied gun a few feet away from him.

He didn't know who did it to his brother but he did know that he wanted to find them and kill them, and he knew he would find them eventually.

Howard couldn't stop himself fidgeting, and pacing, and shaking. He was repeatedly asked by doctors and nurses passing by if he needed help and he could see in their eyes he thought he was a patient at the hospital.

Their fake pity, their feelings of superiority, made Howard feel sick. It made him feel like lashing out but he didn't because he couldn't think about doing anything else but waiting outside Forrest's hospital door.

It had become too frequent; Howard had been finding himself in situations lately where he was waiting on the outside of a hospital door for Jack, or for Maggie, or, more often, for Forrest.

Forrest didn't go chasing trouble, this time. Trouble had clearly found him. He had been unprepared, Howard knew this because if Forrest had been prepared, if he had been ready, then he would not be the one in hospital.

Howard felt a heavy guilt weighing down upon him; the guilt of his brother's pain. Howard went upstairs voluntarily, he drank until he passed out, he drank until he was numb and couldn't feel anything, and as a result of that Forrest was lying on a hospital bed feeling pain.

Howard believed he inflicted that pain on his brother because if he had been downstairs, if he hadn't been in his damn room drinking liquor, than he would have been there and he could have saved Forrest – just like if he had been there on that night, when he was supposed to, Forrest wouldn't have had his throat slit from ear to ear and he wouldn't have almost died.

Howard messed up again, that was what he believed anyway.

* * *

Maggie believed it was her fault, that she was the one to blame.

She believed that she was the reason for Forrest feeling pain, she had inflicted this pain on him.

She crawled slowly in to bed, their bed, and pulled the sheets up till they covered her head. She buried herself in the darkness.

She knew Forrest wasn't coming home.

Maggie had come out of her shock as she'd watched the crimson disappear from her skin. She'd come out of the shock of seeing Forrest like that and she'd come to realize that Jack had been lying.

Forrest wasn't coming home, just yet.

She hears footsteps in her room but doesn't lift the sheet up, she doesn't look up, and she doesn't speak just yet. She knows it's not Forrest.

"Maggie, you alright?" Jack asks.

His voice is frighteningly fragile for someone usually so confident.

"You lied, Jack." she states, accusingly. "Said he was comin' home but he ain't." she says.

He pulls the blankets up slowly, off of her face, to find that her eyes are red and puffy. She's been crying. Jack moves around to the other side of the bed and sits on top of it, so he's resting beside Maggie.

He doesn't get in the bed because it's Maggie and Forrest's bed, not his, and he only wants to sit here until he can reassure Maggie, convince her to sleep, because she needs to rest and her being awake, worrying and waiting until they know something about Forrest, won't do her any good.

"I'm sorry, Maggie." he sighs, closing his eyes slowly. "Ain't nothin' we can do 'till he comes home." Jack adds, with a much softer tone.

She closes her eyes, as she buries her face against her pillow.

"He's comin' home, right, Jack?" she checks, her eyes still tightly closed.

"Not right now, he's not...But, ah..He's Forrest." Jack answers. "Ain't nobody gonna stop him from comin' home if he wants to." Jack adds.

She moves closer towards Jack, resting so her head is against his shoulder.

"You think he wants to?" Maggie asks.

Jack is uncertain.

"Think he wants to do what, Maggie?" he replies.

"You think he still wants to come back?" she asks.

Jack replies with no uncertainty.

"'Course he does, Maggie, this is his home." he answers.

Neither say another word, they don't have to, because they are both exhausted, tired, drained, and they are shocked. They want Forrest to come home, to them. They want Howard to come home and give them the good news.

Maggie is asleep in seconds, she quickly falls in to a dream, a world in which Forrest Bondurant never leaves her side.

As Jack feels his eyes closing, almost against his will, he silently prays that Forrest will come home to them, once more, and that he will survive this because he has to.

Forrest is a strong man, a fighter, and he is not a man to give up, or give in, without a fight. And Forrest Bondurant will fight until his last breath.

* * *

Howard waits in silence.

He waits in an agonizing, painful, dark silence for news of his brother that doesn't come soon enough.

But there is something that catches Howard Bondurant's attention, as he continuously and nervously paces the hallways of the hospital.

A nurse passing by mentioned a name to a doctor; Kenneth Lyle.

Howard may have shoved this off as a coincidence, that this man held the same last name as Oliver Lyle they encountered, but after he'd caught the rest of their conversation he'd known it wasn't a coincidence, couldn't be.

The nurse had said Kenneth Lyle had been admitted with bullet wounds, bleeding badly, and they'd found his car halfway to town, he'd passed out at the wheel. He was driving into town, from the direction of the station Howard had assumed.

He'd put it all together and figured out that Kenneth must have some relation to Oliver, he must have been coming to the station to see Maggie, and knowing this, placing these thoughts together and remembering old thoughts and memories such as Oliver hurting Maggie, was enough to drive Howard to the point of insanity.

He leaves Forrest's room for now because he doesn't have a choice, because he can't control him and he can't stop himself from what comes next.

Family will always come first to Howard Bondurant and he will do everything and anything that he has to do to protect them, to make sure nobody hurts them again, to take care of them.

He follows the nurses down towards Kenneth's Lyle's rooms, waits across the hallway until they leave, and then he enters.

He enters the room stained with blood, dripping in it, with bloodshot eyes and a furious expression resting on his gruff and tired features.

The sight of a such a man looming down over him, while he is in such a weak state, is enough to cause Kenneth to be concerned.

But it is what comes next which causes him to worry.

"You Kenneth Lyle?" Howard asks.

"Who's asking?" Kenneth replies weakly.

"Howard Bondurant is asking, you motherfucker." Howard growls.

He grabs Kenneth by the collar of the shirt, drags him upwards in bed, and places his hands tightly around his neck.

"You the fucker that hurt my brother?" Howard asks.

Kenneth doesn't respond.

His lips part, like he may call out for help, but he stops as Howard speaks.

"I know what you did, you motherfucker, an' if you say a fuckin' word I'll split your fuckin' skull open." he angrily threatens, his grip around the man's throat tightens.

Kenneth nods quickly.

"You're a piece of shit, just like that fuckin' brother of yours. As soon as you get outta here, you motherfucker, I'm gonna find you an' when I do I'm gonna slit your fuckin' throat open with a fuckin' carvin' knife." he harshly says, as he releases Kenneth and slams his body back down against the bed.

Howard steps away, hat in his hands, a glare in his eyes.

"Now..." Howard sighs. "You heal up real soon." he nods once at the man, before he exits the room.

* * *

After leaving Kenneth's room, Howard heads down the hallway, and moves back down to Forrest's room he spots a familiar face, stops as he recognises her eyes, her curls; Evie.

She has just stepped out of one of the doctor's rooms, her hair is wet and curled, her dress is dry and runs down to the ground, stopping short to reveal a pair of brown boots. A thick bandage runs across her neck, underneath her jaw, and she wears the beginnings of a bruise underneath her right lip.

She halts as she spots Howard, almost like she is ashamed, almost like she wishes she hadn't seen him or he hadn't seen her.

But she doesn't turn and leave, she doesn't run away, like she believed she might, like he thought she would, and she doesn't pretend that she hasn't seen him.

Instead, she forgets about herself, she forgets about her own reasons for being here, and she walks quickly to Howard's side like she's worried he's hurt, panicked he's been injured, and this worry only deepens as she catches fragments of dry blood on his clothing, on his chest, his hands and forehead.

"Howard," she begins softly. "What're you doin' here? Are you alright?" she asks.

"Uh..." he murmurs, his eyes still briefly resting on the bandage on her neck. "What happened?" he frowns.

The frown on her features deepens.

"Don't avoid my question, Howard." she says firmly.

He listens.

"What happened to you? You're all bloody." she asks quietly.

Howard shifts uncomfortably, like he doesn't want to talk about this, but he still speaks.

"Er...Blood ain't mine. Forrest..." he mutters.

Evie nearly gasps.

She places her hands to her mouth, closes her eyes momentarily, before she opens them and steps towards Howard.

She reaches out to him and gently places a reassuring hand to his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Howard." she whispers, softly. "'Bout your brother. But I'm sure he'll pull through. From what I've heard, he's a fighter. You all are." she smiles kindly.

Howard's eyes rigidly fall down to the hand which rests on his shoulder.

Howard is unsure and uncertain, for he has never been comforted before and even now he isn't sure if what she is doing is comforting or what.

"Uh..." he murmurs, feeling suddenly embarrassed for some reason.

He takes a slight but obvious step away from Evie, as he does he watches the expression on her features shift into one that resembles disappoint but he says nothing.

He doesn't understand why a woman like her would want to be seen with a man like him, a man stained with his brother's blood, a man who has just threatened to kill the man responsible for hurting his family, a man who has nothing to give.

"Er...What, you're...Neck?" Howard murmurs, gesturing briefly towards the bandage on her neck.

He watches as she shifts uncomfortably.

The smile still rests on her features but it doesn't seem as real as it was only seconds earlier.

"Slipped over an' sliced it," she replies. "Nothing too bad."

"The bruise?" he asks, through almost gritted teeth as the thought of someone harming her, of hitting her, or hurting her in anyway causes a deep anger to rise inside of his chest.

"It happened when I slipped. You here all alone, Howard?" she asks.

He nods slightly.

"Where's your brother, Jack?" she asks. "Sorry, I don't mean to intrude."

"At the station..." Howard murmurs. "Maggie ain't well..."

"You stay here then, Howard, an' you wait for news on Forrest." Evie says, her smile remaining. "An' I'll go check in at the Station."

Howard's frown deepens, much more than it had earlier.

"Er..Don't have to do that, Evie." he replies loudly.

"I know, but I want to." Evie answers, softly.

"Said you don't have to do it, Evie." Howard repeats.

Evie stands her ground, despite that Howard, out of some sense of pride, doesn't want her taking care of his own family even when he cannot be there to do it himself.

"I heard what you said, Howard, I got two ears that work perfectly well. I know you said I don't have to do it but I want to." Evie answers, sharply, confidently.

But still, Howard objects.

"Don't have to do it, Evie...Ain't your family..." Howard murmurs, eyes shifting and avoiding her gaze, his hands playing with the hat in his hands.

He doesn't want Evie to feel that she owes him anything, or his family, because she doesn't.

"Don't even know them." he grumpily comments.

"You're right, Howard. I don't know them, only met Maggie once, but I know you. Alright?" she quickly and confidently counters. "They ain't my family, I know that, an' I never said they were. All I said was I was checking in on them, 'cause if they're similar to the state you're in right now, Howard Bondurant, they ain't good. You don't have a say in it. You go and sit down, outside your brother's room, and if anything happens you call."

Howard holds her gaze for a moment longer before he grunts, mumbles something incoherent, and turns away from her so that he may return to his brother.

Howard doesn't say this to her, he doesn't thank her just yet, but he is thankful for what she's doing as it is a weight off of his shoulders knowing that she will be there, at the station, if Maggie or Jack are to need anything.

Howard stops suddenly, slowly turns around, and calls out to Evie.

"Uh...Evie..." he begins, lowly.

His voice is so low and raw that he doesn't believe that she will hear him, he doesn't expect her to, but she does.

She stops and turns towards him, her expression impassive but soft.

"Yes, Howard?" she answers.

"Jack...er...He ain't 'sposed to be up...Same for Maggie." he mutters.

She manages a small smile. "Okay, Howard."

* * *

Howard sits slowly in the seat outside of his brother's room, his bloodied hands hold his hat, his red eyes stay firmly on a spot on the floor, and his mind focuses on his family.

He thinks of them, of all that he has and would do for them again, and all that they have been through because of him.

Howard thinks mostly of how if he were to ever lose any of them, it would destroy him, and how family has and always be the most important thing to him.

* * *

**A/N: **Hi all!  
I know, it has been so long since I last updated. I won't go into the details behind the lateness too much, I'll just say that things got busy, life got in the way as it usually does, but here it is. Oh and I apologise for any spelling mistakes, I hope there are none but I occasionally miss some when re-reading the chapters. Again, my apologies for the lateness.

Better late than never, right?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this new chapter.

**Dear Guest reviewers:**

**Erin; who posted on ch. 14 on** **4/18/13:  
**Hi, Erin :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing my story. It truly means so very much to me and I'm so happy to read that it pleased you greatly. I apologise for the late update. I'm also very happy to see that you think I've captured the brothers good, especially drawl. That's a really big compliment & a relief, so thank you. I hope you enjoy this new chapter and thank you for reading. x

**Guest; who posted on ch.14 on 4/25/13:  
**Dear, Guest :) Yes, I am definitely going to write many more chapters. I have many ideas still for this story and have no plans to stop anytime in the foreseeable future. I'm so happy you love my version of the story, that's such a kind compliment - thank you for reading and reviewing. x

**Shawn B; who posted on ch.2 on 5/16/13:  
**Hi, Shawn B :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing my story, it really means so much to me. I'm so happy chapter two had you on your seat and I hope you enjoy the chapters to come. Thanks for reading. x

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who has ever read, reviewed, favourited or followed my story. It means so much to me, so thank you. x**


	16. I'm not giving up

**Disclaimer: Lawless and The Wettest County in the world are copyright to Matt Bondurant, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave. All rights reserved. I claim nothing. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.**

* * *

_These hearts were woven of human joys and cares_  
_Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth._  
_The years had given them kindness. _  
_Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth._

Forrest wakes slowly in a dimly lit room, with no sunlight slipping through, the only light flows from a small lamp on his bedside.

His body feels sore, weakened, and his head aches. He feels too weak to move, nearly too weak to be alive, and yet he is alive, he has survived again.

He sets his eyes slowly down upon the sight of his brother, shaggy hair, unshaven beard, shut eyes, resting on a chair at the end of his bed.

Forrest parts his lips to speak but finds that his throat is raw and dry. He coughs twice to clear it, but immediately regrets this as it causes his body to ache.

Howard stirs in the chair.

Forrest lowers his eyes down slowly on his body to find that he has been covered with the blanket. He can see the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest but he cannot feel them.

Howard coughs and nearly trips over as he stands up.

"Forrest." he exclaims, like he can't believe his eyes, like he thought he'd lost his brother for good this time.

They'd come too close this time.

A whole day had passed with Forrest floating in and out of consciousness.

It was normal, the doctor told Howard, considering how much blood he'd lost yet again.

Nothing about this was normal, Howard had thought to himself.

He is a very lucky man, that Forrest Bondurant, the doctor had remarked.

Howard had said nothing because he wasn't sure if he viewed Forrest as being a lucky man. Sure, he beat death plenty of times, too many times for one man, so that could be considered as luck, but he'd dealt with a lot of things, he'd been through too much pain for one person, and Howard didn't particularly consider that to be a lucky thing.

"Forrest," Howard repeats, sighing as he speaks.

He steps towards his brother's bedside, looming down over him.

"Real good to see you awake, Forrest...Real good." Howard murmurs.

Forrest holds his brother's gaze silently for a moment.

"Mm..." he starts.

"I found the motherfucker who did it, Forrest." Howard tells him, and that's all he says.

Forrest just knows from the look in Howard's eyes that it's done, that Kenneth won't be causing them anymore trouble, that he won't lay a hand on Maggie, that he won't hurt anyone else.

"Er...Maggie..." Forrest starts.

Howard hesitates.

"Uh..." Howard mutters.

Forrest nearly glares at Howard. "Howard..."

"She's alright, Forrest." Howard says, finally.

He begins to turn his hat around in his hands. "Still sick, Forrest..." he murmurs.

Forrest closes his eyes. "Jack?"

"Jack's...er.. He's better." Howard answers.

He pauses.

"Got, er...Evie lookin' after 'em..." Howard announces.

Forrest grunts lowly in response, eyes still closed.

Silence passes.

"You go on home, Howard." Forrest instructs.

Howard waits for an explanation that he doesn't receive.

"Howard." he says sternly, eyes opened now.

Howard nods. "I'll be back, Forrest." he says.

Forrest nods slightly before shutting his eyes once more.

Darkness falls over Forrest, he allows it to take him and pull him softly towards sleep.

* * *

The rain still falls on Howard's journey home, he drives slowly, only so he may swig from the jar of liquor beside his feet. Howard needs it more now, well this is what he tells himself anyway, that he needs it because he almost lost his whole family, needs it to dull the feelings rising in his chest, and needs it to forget everything that he has done and all he has seen.

Howard keeps drinking when he pulls up outside the station.

He parks the car, lifts the almost empty jar to his lips and swallows the entire contents in one large mouthful. He exhales heavily, lifts his hand to his face and rubs at his sore features, shuts his red eyes and sighs again.

Howard feels tired, but this doesn't stop him from heading inside to the station. He needs to sleep but decides against it, it doesn't even cross his mind because finding out how Maggie and Jack are doing is much more important to him.

Howard takes large steps up towards the veranda, pulling open both of the front doors and stepping inside. He enters slowly, his hat still on his head, to find the station as empty and silent as it's ever been.

His eyes fall down towards the blood stains marking the ground. He silently curses these stains, and all that they represent, all the pain they bring with their stains, all the pain his brother must have felt lying there, bleeding out with a carving knife in his chest. Forrest was already weakened, he was just recovering from the shoot-out at the bridge. He didn't need this, but fate dealt him this hand and he had to deal with it.

Forrest made it through this, like he's made it through everything else in his past, because the Bondurant's are fighters, they make it through anything and everything thrown at them. His eyes lead him towards the flickers of red stains patterning the floorboards several feet away – Maggie's blood.

His head snaps upwards at the sound of the stairs creaking.

He finds Evie coming down the staircase, a tray in her hands, a tired expression on her face.

Howard reaches for his hat and rips it off of his head.

"Howard," she says, when she settles her eyes upon him.

She looks tired, like she hasn't slept long or at all. She's dressed in light green dress that stops just above her ankles and reveals a pair of thick brown boots. Her hair is messy and damp, and has been pushed back off of her face and hangs down her back.

"How you doing?" she smiles with pale lips.

Howard grunts. "Er..Alright. Jack an' Maggie?"

"They're doing real good, Howard." Evie nods.

She steps past the bar and sets down the wooden tray. She begins moving behind the bar, taking care of plates and sorting out jars.

"You want, you can see Jack." Evie says, without even glancing up at Howard.

Howard frowns. "What 'bout Maggie?"

The worry echoes through his rough voice.

Evie looks up slowly, finding Howard watching her. He glances away and coughs loudly.

"Maggie's sleeping now, Howard. But she's good. Jack's dying to see you." Evie says, casting one last look over Howard before she turns her back on him slowly.

"Er..." Howard starts, but he doesn't know what to say.

Howard pauses before he moves towards the staircase, his hat still in his hand. He moves upstairs quickly, heading directly towards Jack's room.

He finds Jack resting in his bed, blankets piled on top of him, looking real comfy and much better. The color has returned to his cheeks and his eyes, he looks healthier.

"Howard," Jack starts.

Howard wants to curse Jack for being out in the rain and getting sick, but he doesn't.

"Don't move, boy." Howard warns.

He shuts the door to Jack's bedroom and steps slowly towards him.

"How's Forrest? Is he alright? Is he gonna be okay? We've been real worried, Howard. Me and Maggie. Real worried. He's doing alright, isn't he?" Jack asks quickly.

Howard nods stiffly. "Forrest...Gonna be alright."

Jack sighs loudly with relief and lowers his head down against his pillow. "That's great, Howard. That's real great. Ain't it?"

"Mm..." Howard grunts. "How, er..." he starts.

"I'm doing good, Howard." Jack nods, knowing what Howard was going to ask without evening hearing the words.

"Real good. Evie – Man, she's been great. It's been a real good idea that you sent her over here. I wasn't feelin' good, Howard. Not real good. And Maggie was cryin' an' I tried helpin' her an' I got her to wash herself, an' sleep but she wasn't much better an' she was just lying there, eyes open, not doin' anything. Didn't wanna eat, or sleep. Wasn't doing anythin'.. than Evie came and she just turned it 'round, Howard." Jack says quickly.

Howard only catches a few words, due to how fast Jack is speaking, but he catches the important words; Evie helped them out a lot.

Howard nods. "Alright, Jack..." he grunts.

"Howard, I – There..The other day, when you thought I was sayin' you wasn't good enough for Evie-" Jack starts nervously.

"Shut your mouth, Jack." Howard says, "Don't gotta say it."

"But I wanna." Jack sighs.

Howard shakes his head. "Don't wanna hear it.

"Howard, come on." Jack pleads. "I'm trying to say sorry."

Howard continues to shake his head. "Don't need to say it, Jack... Need to rest."

"Alright, alright." Jack gives in, for now. "But we ain't done talkin' bout this, Howard."

Howard smirks. "Uh...We are, Jack."

Jack's lips part, like he might speak, like he might protest – but Howard speaks first.

"Want me to drive Bertha 'round tomorrow?" Howard asks.

Jack nods enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up as he does.

Howard nods. "Then shut your damn mouth an' sleep."

Jack nods again, staying silent.

Howard falters, his eyes flicker over Jack once more before he exits the room.

He remembers Evie's words, about Maggie sleeping, and Howard has no intention of waking her but he just has to check in on her, just has to see her, just has to confirm with his own eyes that she's okay, that she's still here, that she hasn't left him.

Howard takes several small steps towards Maggie's bedroom, he reaches for the door handle and twists it slowly. The door creaks slightly as he pushes it open. Howard doesn't step inside the room, instead he half leans in the doorway.

He finds Maggie resting in bed, the blankets pulled up over her, a small lamp flickering on her bedside. She's sleeping, from the looks of things peacefully. She also has the color back in her face.

Howard releases a low sigh before he retreats out of the room, careful to shut the door silently as he does.

After shutting the door, Howard turns towards the staircase and finds Evie standing at the top of it, arms crossed over her stomach, her eyes narrowed and watching him closely.

Howard can't help but smirk.

His smile is wild, and mischievous, and shows fragments of the happy boy he once was many years ago.

Evie has to fight her own smile.

"What'd I tell you, Howard Bondurant?" she asks, arms still crossed, unimpressed expression still resting on her face.

Howard lifts his finger to his lips, indicating for Evie to be silent.

He takes several long steps towards her, and once he reaches her he bends down and whispers.

"Might want to lower your voice, Maggie's sleeping."

The devilish grin returns to his features.

Evie hits him in the shoulder twice, shoving him towards the stairs afterward.

"Downstairs, now." she whispers.

He nods curtly, grin remaining, and leads the way downstairs.

"Didn't I say Maggie was sleeping?" Evie asks, once they're downstairs.

A flicker of a grin still rests on his face.

Howard shrugs. "Jus' checkin' in on her."

Evie sighs. "Alright."

"That it?" he lifts an eyebrow.

He thought she'd be angrier, that she'd scold him or hit him again for almost waking Maggie from a well needed sleep.

"Sit." she instructs.

Howard hesitates.

"Sit." Evie repeats, pointing towards the closest stool.

He pauses before he sits down slowly on the stool, settling his hat down upon the bar.

"You hungry, Howard?" she asks, moving behind the bar as she speaks.

Howard shakes his head. "Nah..." he lies.

He doesn't want to make Evie do anymore work around the station, she's already done so much and he can make his own meal.

"Can be headin' off now...If you want." Howard states.

Evie places her hand on her hip and turns to Howard.

"Anyone tell you you're a bad liar, Howard Bondurant?" Evie asks.

He pretends to think on her words.

"Nope." Howard finally answers.

Evie moves to the bench and begins preparing a plate for Howard. "Well, you are."

Howard sighs and stands from his stool.

He moves behind the bar, catching a glance of Evie as he does, before he reaches for a jar of liquor beside her.

"Want some?" Howard offers, after unscrewing the lid.

Evie simply shakes her head and continues looking down at the plate she's preparing, almost like she's purposely avoiding Howard's gaze. Howard finds this curious, and so he continues to watch her closely for a moment, his eyes unintentionally lingering on her, before he returns to his stool.

He presses the jar to his lips and swallows, then he exhales loudly and lifts his eyes slowly towards Evie to find her working behind the bench still, her head still down, working on the meal she's preparing him.

His palms feel sweaty.

He drops them to his pants and wipes them, trying to stop the damn sweat. He feels like his heart is beating heavier in his chest, and it all start just because she's here with him.

Evie glances up and smiles. "Won't be too much longer." she says.

Howard doesn't know what to say back, so he grunts and takes another swig from the jar.

Silence follows and remains as Evie walks out from behind the bar, carrying Howard's plate and a mug of milk towards him.

Howard's eyes flicker towards the plate, he can't deny that he's hungry and the plate looks good. Freshly made sandwiches, which look delicious, with a side of sliced oranges.

He remembers the day he met Evie, how he dropped his sliced oranges on her dressed and stained it. Howard watches Evie out of the corner of his eyes as she places the place down in front of him, beside the mug.

As she turns to Howard, Evie catches something beneath the gruffness of his beard, his thick collar, and the stench of liquor that floats off of him.

She sees blood, stained on the corner of the collar of his shirt.

Without waiting, without asking, and with no announcement of what she would next do, Evie pulls back the side of Howard's coat so she may better inspect the blood.

"Howard, you're bleeding." she says, clearly panicked.

He drops his eyes to her hand, which is gripping the corner of his dirty light brown shirt. He sees the blood, the damn blood he missed, and he shuts his eyes and sighs.

"Gotta get this off." Evie reaches for the buttons of his coat,

He grabs her hand with a surprising speed, holding them gently yet preventing them from undoing his coat.

"Mm..Alright, Evie." he says.

Calloused hands release pale fingers.

She lowers her hands down towards her side, watching him still with an uncertain and unsure expression on her face.

"You're bleedin', Howard. It ain't alright. Let me take a look. Okay?" Evie nearly pleads, the concern sweeping over her face as she watches him closely.

"Ain't bleedin'." he says simply.

Howard stands from the chair slowly.

It isn't his blood.

"Forrest's blood." he says, avoiding her eyes.

And she knows he's lying, because she just knows, just like she knew from the moment she saw Howard Bondurant that there was something special about him, something that caught her eye, something different about him.

"Howard," Evie calls out, as he moves towards the front door.

"I don't understand you, Howard Bondurant. I don't."

Howard grunts but says nothing.

"It ain't Forrest's blood, Howard. I seen you at the hospital. I seen where you had the blood, an' you didn't have it there. Didn't have it on your hands either."

Howard lifts his hands slowly to find remnants of dry blood scattered over his knuckles.

He curses himself for being such a damn fool, for not cleaning himself up properly, and for being so foolish as to bring Evie into this business, into this life, into his life.

"Ain't your damn business, Evie. Best be headin' home." Howard says, not even looking her.

He takes another step towards the door.

"We all got blood on our hands, Howard. Whether it's our own blood or it belongs to someone else, we all got it. Ain't nothin' we can do to stop it once it's there. Can only wash it off an' hope one day we forget the sight of it, or the stench of it, or the feel of it running against your skin." Evie says.

Howard halts, his breathing hitches and he cranes his neck so he may see Evie.

Evie sighs and takes a step towards him, her voice rising as she speaks. "I don't give a damn whose blood you got on your hands 'cause I know you're a good man. You ain't a bad man, ain't a selfish or cruel man either. What you are, Howard Bondurant, is a fair man. A good one. A man who does what he needs to protect his family, to save their lives. What you do doesn't make you bad, makes you brave. An' I only wish I had your strength and your bravery when it came to my own family 'cause then maybe I'd still have my brother. Maybe I'd still have a family."

Dry words pass Howard's lips.

"Err...Evie..." he stutters.

He is unsure of what to say or do next, he isn't good at comforting people, he wouldn't know where to begin. He isn't much good with talking to people about their feelings. He doesn't even know what to say, or where to start.

Howard's guilt rises when Evie smiles, seemingly oblivious to the tears which streaked down her cheeks.

"A man like you needs his food," she says, with the quietest voice he's ever heard her use. "You sit down an' you eat your meal. An' I won't hear another word about it."

Howard sits down without another word and eats his meal.

He looks up at Evie once or twice, finding that she is again purposely avoiding his gaze. Howard doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know how to help Forrest, he doesn't know what he can do to help Maggie or Jack, and he has no damn idea where to start with Evie.

Howard sighs and shuts his eyes briefly, hoping that the next day that comes will be calmer.

* * *

The next day that falls upon the station is calmer.

The rain has disappeared.

The sky is clearer and the sun is warmer.

Maggie wakes slowly in bed, feeling much better, stronger even, underneath the soft and warm pile of blankets that had been placed over her. It takes her a moment to find any strength to sit up in bed, but she soon finds it and so she pulls herself upwards and releases a low breath of air.

The knocking on the door sometime later causes her eyes, which she hadn't known she'd shut, open.

"Forrest?" Maggie calls out, out of hope, out of a need to see him.

The door opens slowly and Howard's tall figure steps through, his beard messier than she'd remembered it, his eyes redder and his skin paler.

"Howard," Maggie breathes easily.

It feels like it's been so long, too long, since she's seen Howard.

It's been even longer since she's seen Forrest.

"How's Forrest? How's he doing?" Maggie asks, sitting up more in bed.

"Ain't gonna do anyone any good if you keep movin' round, Maggie." Howard replies.

"Don't avoid it, Howard." Maggie says sternly.

Howard sighs and enters the room, taking small several steps inside.

"Doin' alright." Howard says finally.

"He's is?" Maggie asks, hope in her eyes, disbelief lingering like she almost can't believe that he's alright.

"Mm..." Howard nods slowly. "Gonna be out in a week."

Tears slip down her cheeks as a smile breaks out on her lips. "Oh, good, Howard. That's real good."

"..Heard you ain't been eating...Much." Howard murmurs.

Maggie releases a long and heavy sigh. "Jus' ain't been hungry, Howard."

"Mm." Howard grunts. "Doc said you're physically exhausted."

"I ain't." she protests. "I'm fine, Howard."

"You ain't movin' from that bed 'till the Doc clears you." Howard crosses his arms.

"I have to see him, Howard. I have to see Forrest." Maggie frowns. "What, you going to stop me, Howard?"

"Mm." he nods. "Yeah.. I will. An' Evie's gonna stop by. An' when Jack's up, he's gonna stop in. Gotta get yourself better, Maggie. Ain't movin' till your cleared."

"Howard..." Maggie sighs.

"Jus' gotta wait one week, Maggie." Howard says, "Just one week. That's all."

"Fine," Maggie gives in. "But only if you promise me something."

Howard nods but otherwise stays silent.

"I'm allowed to go for walks, 'cause I ain't staying in this damn bed the whole week."

Howard manages a small smirk, amused by her irritability about being confined to the bed for a week.

Howard agrees. "Alright."

Evie returns early in the morning, dressed in a light brown dress which passes her knees and stops before he ankles, revealing the same pair of brown boots. She spends a lot of the morning outside of the station, peeling potatoes, tending to the garden and so on.

She enters the station and heads upstairs with breakfast for Jack, and Maggie.

Jack is overly talkative, rambling on about how Bertha is coming over and how he can't wait to see her. After taking breakfast for Jack, and saying that she thought it'd be more than fine if he got up out of bed and got some sunshine outside when Bertha came, Evie entered Maggie's room.

She found her resting on the edge of her bed, holding a chain in her hands.

At the sound of footsteps, Maggie clutches the chain tightly and shoves it away, she turns to the door and is somewhat relieved to find Evie standing there.

"Hi." Maggie smiles kindly, sliding the chain underneath the pillow beside her.

"How are you feeling, Maggie?" Evie asks.

"Alright." Maggie answers.

"Still sore?" Evie asks.

Maggie nods. "Mm."

"Bet you're getting tired of that bed, hm?" Evie smiles, moving slowly so she may take a seat beside Maggie.

Maggie pulls her legs back up onto bed and covers herself with the sheets.

"No," Maggie smiles sadly.

She isn't tired of this bed, because when she shuts her eyes tightly enough and she tries hard enough to picture it, she can sometimes imagine Forrest lying in bed beside her, all lit up in sunlight, watching her, stroking her hair, holding her, pressing soft kisses to her forehead.

"Howard said Forrest's doin' real good." Evie says. "He'll be home soon."

The smile on Maggie's face falters, she simply nods.

Silence passes but doesn't last for long.

"It's been real good having you here, Evie. Looking after Jack an' I. An' Howard." Maggie says.

Evie's smile remains. "It's been no trouble, really. I've enjoyed the company."

A soft smile returns to Maggie's face. "An' we've enjoyed yours. Thank you, Evie."

Jack bursts inside Maggie's room at this second, fixing his shirt and readjusting his clothes as he does. "Maggie – Oh, good. You're up. How you feelin'?"

"You alright, Jack?" Maggie asks.

He seems flustered, nervous almost.

"Yeah, yeah. Doin' real good, Maggie. Bertha's comin' over. She's on her way, gonna be here any minute." Jack grins toothily.

Maggie manages a laugh as Jack disappears from the doorway and then returns seconds later.

"Jus' wanted to check in an' see how you were doin'." Jack states.

"I'm doing alright, Jack. Go on downstairs, Bertha will be here soon." Maggie says.

Jack nods. "'I'll tell her you said hi." he shouts, before disappearing down the stairs.

Evie moves to stand from the bed, but as she does she catches something in Maggie's eyes.

Loneliness, perhaps, and fear.

Evie hesitates. "You know...I don't have anywhere to be today, and since you're in here -I could stay with you for a while, if you'd like. We could talk, have tea, and then when Howard ain't looking we can go for a walk."

Maggie's smile widens and becomes realer.

"Yes," Maggie manages to say, voice raw and somewhat croaky. "I'd like that too, Evie."

"So would I." Evie smiles. "I'll be right back with the tea."

Bertha arrives just as Evie returns downstairs. Jack greets her enthusiastically with a kiss. Howard walks past them and inside. He finds Evie inside making tea, and nods at her before he reaches for a jar of liquor. Then, he heads upstairs to check in on Maggie again.

Howard feels like he owes it to Forrest, to look after the station, to check constantly on Maggie and Jack and take care of them, in his absence.

He returns downstairs seconds later, nodding briefly at Evie before he exits and heads outside.

The sun feels warm and refreshing against his skin.

Evie greets Bertha warmly, and the two hit if off instantly and begin talking so much that Jack can hardly get a word in – and it's a rare thing when Jack Bondurant cannot get a word in, considering he talks more than he breathes.

When Howard leaves her room, Maggie reaches for her window and opens it further. She pulls back the blinds and sticks her head outside of it, soaking in the warmth that the sun provides.

It's been so long since she's just felt the sun against her skin, and felt nothing but that.

"Maggie!" Howard's booming voice breaks through her moment of warmth and peace.

Her eyes flutter open.

He's standing outside, below the window with a jar in one hand and his hat in the other, looking unimpressed

Maggie sighs.

"What the hell you doin'?" he shouts.

Howard's been so protective of her, so concerned, about her and it's sweet but leaning out of the window isn't going to cause her any strain.

"Put your head back inside that damn window 'fore I-" he starts.

"Keep walking, Howard." Maggie threatens.

He nearly groans, nearly throws his hat on the ground in frustration, before he meets her gaze.

The two meet a silent understanding.

Maggie will stay in her room if she's allowed to get some sunshine by leaning out of the window.

Howard agrees to this.

Maggie wins this time.

He mutters something underneath his breath, shoves his hat on his head and walks away.

Howard only spends a little while away from the station before he makes his way back towards it, deciding he's going to rest on an armchair on the front veranda. As he nears the veranda, he finds Jack sitting on the stairs with an untouched jar of liquor beside him.

"Forget what happened last time, did ya', Jack?" Howard smirks.

"Shut it." Jack sighs.

Howard groans loudly. "What you sulkin' bout, boy? An' where's Betty?"

Jack shoots Howard a look.

"Know her goddamn name is Bertha, Jack. What in hells your damn problem?" Howard asks.

He leans down, snatches the unopened and untouched jar from Jack and unscrews the lid.

"Ain't really seen Bertha." Jack murmurs.

Howard frowns.

"Bertha's upstairs." Jack says, standing up slowly.

"Why you gotta be so damn slow for, Jack? Just spit it out." Howard curses, sighing after he finishes speaking.

"She an' Evie started talkin' an' that's real good, real glad they're becomin' friends an' all – Then Evie asked Bertha if she wanted tea, an' Bertha said-"

"Cut to the chase, Jack." Howard says.

Jack glances upstairs ."Bertha's upstairs with Maggie an' Evie. Drinkin' tea an' talkin' and laughin' real loud."

"Sure you ain't gonna join them? You're sulkin' like a girl-" Howard starts.

Jack cuts him off. "Alright, Howard."

"It's good, Jack." Howard says finally.

Jack frowns slightly. "What's is, Howard?"

"That they all up there, with Maggie." Howard has to spell it out to Jack.

"So...Mmm. She ain't all alone." Howard says.

"Yeah, jus..." Jack starts.

Howard swallows from the jar before he speaks again. "What?"

"I jus' missed her, is all." Jack shrugs.

Howard shoots Jack a look that causes him to stiffen up and take a step away.

"You seen her couple days ago, Jack." Howard starts. "An', Maggie...She's uh...Been through hell."

"I know." Jack nods, quickly cutting in.

"So, stop sulkin' that Bertha is spendin' time with Maggie an' be happy that Maggie's got some friends." Howard snaps back.

"We're Maggie's friends, Howard. Ain't we?" Jack asks.

Howard nods. "Yeah, Jack. But they ain't know what we know. It ain't the same."

Jack's frown deepens. "How you mean, Howard?"

"What I goddamn mean, Jack, is that they ain't seen the things happen to her that we see. We seen that motherfucker hurt her. We seen her scrubbing blood off of that goddamn floor too many times. But they ain't seen it. They don't know nothin' 'bout it, they ain't reminders like we are." Howard answers.

"Are we bad reminders, Howard?" Jack asks, almost sadly. "Is that why Maggie doesn't wanna spend time with us?"

"Quit your sulkin', Jack. 'Course Maggie wants to spend time with us." Howard sighs. "We ain't bad reminders. We're just reminders, is all."

Howard notes a certain expression on Jack's features, and so he sighs again.

"Don't you worry 'bout it. Maggie's gonna come 'round, Jack. Then, we won't be reminders no more." Howard answers.

Jack pauses. "There's something else, Howard." he admits, "'Bout Bertha an' I. I love her, Howard. I love her a lot."

"Where's this goin', Jack?" Howard sounds tired.

"Reason I asked her over today was cause I was plannin' somethin'..." Jack says.

Howard's eyes narrow in Jack.

"You know, jus' seein' Forrest hurt, and Maggie how she is – Got me thinkin' 'bout a lot of things, Howard, like what I wanna do with my life, who I want in it. An' Forrest said once, that we got as much sense as a bird flying in the sky. We don't know what's comin' our way, but I do know that I want to marry Bertha. I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

* * *

**A/N: **Hello! I know, it's been a very long time since I last updated but here is this new chapter and I hope you enjoy it. I'm sorry for the wait, and I'm thankful for everyone who reads my story.

Enjoy. x


End file.
